A Blasphemous Boundary Broken
by Rioichi
Summary: Never have I wanted so badly to see past the wall between our rooms-to watch you sleep. NEVER. I hear you say, "Alex hasn't experienced tension, she's too uncaring." Psh, I can't lie about that. You're the only tension I've ever experienced.
1. Preface

Alex's P.O.V.

Some people say I have a big ego. Few like to say I have a big heart. There are the really _crap-tastic_ ones who like to say I have the WORST FASHION SENSE (Gigi, which is out of pure jealously). Then, there are the ones that say I have a big mouth. I don't believe them, so I wouldn't really believe myself when I made a Twitter. Psh, I wouldn't _dare_ touch a keyboard if it wasn't QWERTY, or grouped up with the numbers on my cell. Don't call me shallow, call me Alex. Don't pass me a ruler; I'll very much enjoy using it to file my nails. Not an advanced calculator, I'll start playing that monkey game and you'll wonder why I don't give a care about your overreaching, pointless math lesson. Don't even say the word "**textbook**", kay? You'll regret it, or I'll just use it as a paper weight till I give it back. (_Psh_, _ch-yeah_, which is _never_.)

Okay, enough with the education mess, I'm getting a headache. Anyway, like I said, people like to say I have a big mouth. I'm _**loud**__, _i'm _**out there**_…. _Please_, I'm _**out there**_ for a reason…_not to see any of your faces since you're __**in there**__._ Being who I am is good enough for everybody else, not to sound cheesy. Pouring my thoughts into thousands upon thousands of words made this kinda…kinda wierd. But it's not about that, It's about what I had to say.

What I had to _**hide**_.


	2. Alex: Chapter 1: Restless Night

Okay, so it happened like this—Well, actually, I don't know how it happened. It was during vacation, I can assure you. All of the events that took place were almost life-changing, our parents losing their minds and not knowing us, watching Max get sucked into that tornado and officially know us—Oh gosh, the memory loss. Me bonking Justin on the head would hurt, no doubt (I got that hook ;) ) but losing memories at a notice's glance without any blows to the brain seemed waaay more horrible. Not only because I hadn't caused them physical pain—I only enjoyed the mental or emotional slap-to-the-face—but simply for the fact that it was mental pain, unannounced to them, coming out of nowhere and practically swiping them of their lives. Swiping them of my life.

Anyway, my minds jumbling up again. The worst part, and this is such a haunt that I can't even find the words to describe it, but…before the competition began, staring into Justin's eyes and saying "Good Luck…" sounded much more like a goodbye. An echo that he would soon be leaving. I battled myself with the after-effects, but, I felt that losing Justin was far worse than being left with nothing. It wouldn't only show how selfish I was, but how much…I know, you're gonna stick your tongue out in disgust…but…it would've shown how much I was actually…OK, HOW MUCH I WAS IN LOVE WITH HIM! OH SHOOT …UGH! I'm starting to despise myself. What's worse is, I established the love and rejected the thought so many times I was almost as put out as I am when I **TRY** to do homework. Haha, I could've sworn steam was coming outta my head!!

**The first night it happened…when his face started to appear in my head, I almost puked, like, _seriously_. But, I stated the obvious because I KNEW it was true. I just didn't want to believe it…**

**…**

Somehow...Somehow, I'm in love with my Brother...Yuck, am I diseased??

12:01 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

**…**

No, I thought. I feel fine. I mean, _Who, in their right mind_—Haha, psycho-person humor—I mean, who, in general, would want to call themselves crazy? Laying down in my bed I felt fine. I wasn't dizzy, faint, my mouth wasn't parched cuz I just got a drink of milk before bed. My body's temperature was normal.

So…I started to ponder on the _other_ obvious reasons…

**...**

My heart seems to soar through my chest whenever I see his face--Ohmigosh, when will this end?! I know maybe this is a spell!!

12:06 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

**Right, _Magic_. It seemed very possible, considering magic makes you have peculiar reactions or could make your emotions and senses as normal as could be. I doubted that scenario, though. Then, after some SERIOUS thought, rest was my only option. I WAS DEAD.**

I shouldn't be thinking about these types of things, he's my brother!!! Ugh #LoveStinks, especially this kind.

12:40 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

* * *

Going to bed. Hopefully the dreams aren't of Justin or any piece of him. Urgh!!! I hate myself, I just HATE how much—

12:47 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

* * *

--H-How much I want him...

12:47 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

* * *

Goodnight. Maybe I'll be different by the morning. Maybe an awesome prank will show up so I forget. pfft, yeah! I'm Alex Russo!

12:48 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

* * *

I don't take the right bus to school & I still get away with it!! I can get over Justin in a heartbeat, as ridiculous as that is! Goodnight!

12:50 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

I think it might've gone on like that for longer than I had hoped. I couldn't seem to get him out of my head. Every glimpse I saw of him today at school seemed to play back in a repitition I so longed to break. A repitition that would absolutely NOT let me sleep through the night in piece.

Curse this photographic memory. It'll be the death of me, I swear.

* * *

Gonna put some of the tweets with the PICS I used in the next chapter. Its really funny when you look at em! Post the next chap Soon! Comment and Favorite! This is gonna get gooooood!

BTW, This story's gonna have parts in Justin's point of view, too. Maybe others, Also! FINGAHS CROSSED!!!

Rio : )


	3. Alex: Chapter 2: You Called Me Sexy?

The night was unbearable, as you already know. Not even about ten minutes after I hit the hay was I up, sitting at my desk in front of the web cam on my laptop filming myself for no apparent reason. I may have forgotten to mention this earlier, but I STILL HAD MY CLOTHES ON, PEOPLE, IT WAS VERY STRESSFUL!! Me, being of the upmost composure, couldn't quite believe this either. I was hysterical, talking very loud, comp. There was a distant voice coming through the far wall, a voice that I did not want also banging against my ear drums. Every two to three minutes I heard, "SHUT UP!" or, "ALEX, GO TO SLEEP!" or, "WE HAVE SCHOOL, GO TO BED, ALEX!!!"

Oh, Justin. Such _feeble_ attempts make you all the more weak. Who says I have to listen to you? I tweeted some pics that night.

_Lights r on, still dressed, hair's a mess, yet I can't sleep & Justin yellin at me to go to bed isn't helping!! _**_/isuhs_**

_1:04 AM Sep 23rd__ from __Echofon_

_Shut ur yap, Justin!!!! He doesn't understand. HELP. ME. _**_/isuv4_**

_1:10 AM Sep 23rd__ from __Echofon_

**_/isuhs_**_- ONE OF THESE DAYS!!!_

_1:12 AM Sep 23rd__ from __TwitPic__(Same Pic)_

I had never felt so alive that night, and most certainly, not in the good way. Still hadn't inched up from the computer chair to get my pajamas on. Really annoying.

Yeah, STILL Awake!

_Ya know what else, i'm smiling, And STILL NO JAMMIES! I feel like some creepy psycho wizard!! MAYBE I WAS HIGH! _******_/isvks_**

I thought he would've at least tried working me up sever al more times before the night was over, but then the worst possible thing had occurred. Due to the overlying stress of having to deal with a discomforting affection for someone, my hysteria—hysterics, _WHATEVER_ you want to call it—caused a very detrimental problem to pop up.

_"YOU KNOW YOU'RE SEXY, RIGHT?!"_ I blathered. But it wasn't quick enough, the words had already sprung out into the air and made it's way to Justin's ears. How could I tell? His bed creaked, telling me that he was about to start something at my door.

**_/isw7a_**_All I could think about was how much of a crackhead I was at 3:30 AM!!_

_What's weirder was, I WAS TALKIN TO MY MONITOR! Yeah, cuz screaming flirts about ur bro to a monitor is DANDY!! _******_/iswo8_****_._**

_On a much more horrible level,__ I made THIS face when I said it, therefore qualifying me for the loony train with Max!_******_/iswo8_**

I giggled at Justin's failed attempts to gain entrance to my fortress--_ugh_, let's just say _my room_, the other thing sounds like something he would say. I had to aim at ignoring his ridiculous mutters to himself that he thought only _he_ could hear although I was occupied. The doorknob jiggled repetitively, over and over. All of a sudden, there was an object making a loud knock against my door, then I saw it bend inward a little bit. That startled my attention away from the screen of my laptop. I could tell by now that he was trying to knock the door in. _Hell-o?_ It wasn't locked.  
_Psh, he'll figure it out. He knows everything, right?_ I thought to myself.

"ARE YOU KIDS STILL UP?!" My dad's voice bounced across the hall. Shoot! Panicking, I hopped off of chair and vaulted over the bed (almost killing myself), scrambling to the door to grab the knob and pull it open.  
"Justin--" I placed one hand on the knob and the other on the surface of the door to press it closed, but he kept on with it, resisting my tries and pushing the door against my palm. "Ok, Justin--" There was little calmness left in me, but I still kept to hold it closed. He apparently hadn't caught on, yet. "Justin--let go of the--"  
WHACK! The door greeted my nose at full blast and my head flew backwards. I stumbled, tilting towards my bed in the center of the room.  
"OW! JUSTIN!" I exclaimed, taking a seat on my top covers. My fingers were wrapped around my nose in a firm hold: he _really_ better not have broken it. He slid through the door with a frightened look on his face, since he hurt me, obviously. "Ow...ow...ow...ow..." He was momentarily speechless, falling over his own words, "I tried to open the--"  
"Well, it worked!!" I assured him angrily in a whisper. I glanced up to see Justin looking down at me. He had an elongated face, eyes curved instead of oval-shaped and hardened with the stern color of a misty gray. Much like his face, his lips were also thin, especially his top lip, _the almost "nonexistent" one_, I usually said. Atop his head was a black jungle of lengthy spikes. Numerous people like to say he gelled his hair up that way, but that was only on occasion, I guess. It was naturally that way, as it grew. His eyebrows started where they normally would, but they also had a certain weird shape to them. They were different then you're occasional curved one. He had a long, symmetrical nose in-between his eyes, a trait from mom. He was the only Russo in our standard family (the five of us) that looked a remotely Italian, other than my dad.  
"Are you--Are you okay?" he asked quickly, with sharp concern in his voice. His eyes fiercely stared at me like I was a car wreck spread out in front of him.  
"Yeah, I'll survive," I reassured him, Standing up from the bed. I revealed my nose from the cover of my hand with a sniffle. "Is it bleeding??"  
He hunched over to get a better look, eyes squinting and lips pursed as he examined his doing. "It's perfectly fine; just a little red." He stated, lips turned up in a smile. My body chilled and goosebumps trailed down my forearm when he got close. It wasn't until I got out of the trance he had over me that I noticed him making fun of my secret alarm. Justin made googly eyes and pouted his lips out, "Does Wittle Alex want me to kiss it?"

YES.

"N-No!" I yelled at his amusement. I think I looked a little more _afraid_ than disgusted. "What's wrong with you?!" I whacked him in the arm and he sprang back a step in play-defense, his adorable laugh freeing into the air. His teeth were a glossy white in the lit room, almost as brilliant as the lights scattered around.

"What's wrong with you? You said I was sexy!" Justin told me. I froze a little on the inside, but I quickly put an excuse in the place of the ice.

"I was just—you know, watching that show…that I like…" I lied, looking around for the answer as I continued with my words. "Now, why would I say that, Justin?"

"Never mind, just messing with you," He told me. He obviously wanted to forget about it. I then sniffed again, scrunching my face up. He replied with, "You see, this is why you don't lock the door!"  
"BUT I DIDNT LOCK THE--"  
My lips were forced closed by Justin's grouped fingers, his hand smacking over my mouth.

"_Shh!_" He begged, holding a single finger to his thin lips. His eyebrows were slanted down and his vision shifted from me to the wall next to us several times, like he had been waiting for some footsteps to begin on the floor of the hall. Then he stood there, staring at me. I stared back, waiting for my heart to either die out or pick up speed. Every time I'd stop talking he'd say, "At long last! The Olympic track athlete has finally stopped running laps!", but a silence had now been clouded over our banter, which was the only noise in the room.  
The heartbeats slowed once Justin's gray-eyed gaze broke away and his head turned to the door to get an even better listen.  
Then he turned to me, cocking his head to the side and squinting his eyes again. I guess he was confused now. "So, the door wasn't locked?" He questioned, hand still in my way of speech.  
"OH, ENOUGH WITH THE HAND!" I yelled as low as I could, tearing his hand away from my mouth in a fuss and startling him. "No, Justin, No, It wasn't...that's what I was trying _to tell you_! You're just brain dead..."  
"Me?" He asked, pointing to his chest.  
"Yeah."  
"Me."  
"Uh-huh. You couldn't think to just turn the knob without calling out "inner buffalo man" to almost ram the door to pieces!"  
"Hey!" He exclaimed, almost interrupting my explanation. His finger was pointed out as if to blame me. "Your door is tricky sometimes...."  
I crossed my arms."_Rigghht_...if that's tricky, revolving doors must be _murder_. Remind me never to go to a hotel with you, 'cause apparently, you could _kill yourself_."  
"Alex, _what_ are you even doing up this late--wait, or should I say, this _early_? It's after two in the morning! You know it's lights out at ten, with eleven at the latest!"  
My attitude lessened up a bit. "I got a lot on my mind, Justin..." I huffed. I made my way back over to my computer desk, sat and then twirled around until I faced the screen.  
"What? Are you on some social networking site or something?"  
"_Hehheh_, you're envy amuses me," I toyed, giving him a satisfied grin then turning back to the keys.  
"I, for one, like to talk to my friends in person. It shows that I'm not expected to be locked up in my room all day." He ranted. _BLAH-BLAH BLAH-BLAH BLAH_. Like, _Seriously_.  
I scoffed at his ramblings. "Please, it only shows that you don't have ownage to one. And I'm not on the computer all the time."  
My phone sent a beep into the room, "_Ooh_, a text."  
Justin was giving me a death glare from across the room, a bunch of daggers boring into me, but everyone knows you have to sharpen your tools before you use them. Justin's glare was elementary.  
I tapped the keys at lightning speed, super-quick. I confronted Justin without even a glance away from the letters I was scrambling together on the backlit screen of my Voyager. "Justin, don't look at me like that, i've seen scarier eyes on that girl scout that visits us every month..." My voice had no authority, very bland.  
"Well, whatever. _Unlike you_, I'm going to get some sleep and not wake up tomorrow looking like the undead." He said, trying to sound more accomplished.  
"Phh, I'm always undead...I'm not dead--_duh_." I reminded him.  
"That's not what I--never mind..." Justin stopped himself then continued on through the door."  
"Justin, Wait! Before you go, I need to tell you something!" I said quickly, setting down my cell and running to him from my desk.  
"What?" He looked interested.  
"You got something, right...." I trailed my finger around his shirt to find the spot. "Here." I pointed to the middle of his black wife beater and he looked down to it. "There isn't any--"  
My hand lightly popped his left cheek, turning his head slightly to the right. Not done yet, I pushed him out the room—almost off of his feet--and slammed the door shut right in his face.  
"ALEX...!" He grunted from the hallway. Approaching my closet for pajamas, I chuckled at full volume. Noise, Shmoise. Who really cares if your parents would barge in to yell at you for still being awake at 2 AM, right? Anybody like me would be in bed before they even had a clue...

This chapter was great, very fun to write!! Their argument was very Justin and Alex! The next chapter focuses on how Alex refuses to go to sleep and, in turn, sets up a prank phone call to Justin to mess him up...I gotta check out the times for those tweets since I was up early in the morning adding them in, I guess. Justin doesn't make a Twitter until later. So Alexs POV is dominant in the fic as of now.

I'll update Soon! Cya!  
Rio : )


	4. Alex: Chapter 3: PHONE PRANK

Hey!! PLEASE TAKE OUT THE SPACES IN THE URL'S TO VIEW THE PICS IF YOU WISH. Now….on with the story!!

Rio :D

AlexLuvsJustin:

"That one prank, where there's a phone, and you call someone—yeah, you know what I'm talking about!!"

I trotted out of my clothing palace and skipped to my bed, hurling my hair up into a bun of curls. I flung myself forward onto the bed and flipped over to face the ceiling.

​"Ugh, so bored…" I said to myself. Then a lightbulb went off in my head. I usually was out at this time of morning, but, being this awake my mind started to ponder on certain things—And if you're still there, GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THE GUTTER.) I grabbed my phone and worked past the lengthy list of tweets having belonged to my best friend, Harper. I worked my iPhone with my finger scrolling and checking out my mile-long address book. Toggling through the "J's", an idea strangled my mind in a hold.

​ TOTAL PRANKAGE. The words appeared as a mini-me spray-painted in on a brick wall in my head. Haha, I miss that station, I REALLY need to check it out again. I started up Echofon and typed my deed out to my tweetbirds.

***********************************************************************************

Jammies are ouan. Gonna try to prank his cell. Haha. I'm a little cheerier but this will not go on for so long. Twit Pic .com /isy6b

2:05 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

***********************************************************************************

The whole thing was a little riskier than I intended to think, but hey, he never has the guts to attempt to get back at me. Well, he does, but it constantly results in pitiful disappointments on his part. I touched the contact with the press of my finger and waited for the dial tone as I pressed it to my ear. Rising from my bed, I lightly tapped my lamp to feed off some dim light, enough to focus on this hilarious undertaking.

​ My door was slightly open, but I had no care for that. I was pretty sure if push came to shove, I'd be back in my bed before he got any ideas. Surely, my face would be the first. But once again, no worries. Justin was the type to fall asleep quickly because of his constant study, after school clubs and some sports he liked to take part in.

***********************************************************************************

(Phone Prank) Okay, my door was ajar so I checked it before callin'. Twit Pic .com /isyqf

2:15 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

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​The dial tone repeated for the length of about 10 seconds before a voice gargled through the other end.

​ *Sniff* "Hello?" he sounded like he was congested! I was trying SO HARD not to laugh my butt off or fall onto the floor laughing. That thud would be sure to turn him onto my doing. My teeth were clenched onto my tongue as the giggles shivered back down my throat. "Hello?? Who is this?"

Haha; Perfect. *69 is officially my new best friend! Hahaha. I turned the phone away from my ear and cleared my throat to the best and the quietest of my ability before turning back with the first phrase graced onto my mind.

​"Hello, Is This Mr. Justin Russo?" I said in the best British accent I could manage. It was hard to form, but I was successful. I formed the sentences fine, hitting the right ones with my voice. This is what I get for listening to Professor Crumbs day in and day out for the entire summer. Yeah, like I DIDN'T point my wand to my temple like it was some kind of fancy gun…

​ "Y-Yes…Who is this? If this—this is Senor Arturo from that ranch, I don't—don't have your enchiladas right now," He said; My mouth fell open in a soundless laugh and tears came to my eyes. "….Keep in touch, though, okthanksbye….."

​"Wait a second, Mr. Russo….We are running a daily inspection to check men's underwear for …potency—yeahhh—" –Heehee, look at me, like I have a job or something!!—Uh, Ahem ,yes. Anyway, We'd like you to do something for us—The Undergarment Inspection Agency—Yes…."

​"Oh, The UIA? Sure…I guess. I still don't have the enchi--" Justin pondered with a very heavy yawn. Yeah—haha—He SO totally made that up on the top of his head; loser.

***********************************************************************************

Justin was like Helloo? All sleepy & crap. Haha, THE UIA!!! RIGHTTTTT!!!!! Twit Pic .com /isyxt

2:16 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

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"OH, WOULD YOU FORG—Oh, Ahem, I mean, we would be very grateful if you would do so much as strip down and carefully walk into your kitchen and dispose of your under wear properly in the nearest freezer facility."

​He groaned a little under his breath, obviously getting tired once again. "Uh…okay…? Why?"

​ I laughed silently again, hopping up and down in my computer chair. I just thought of the most embarrassing question in the entire annoying-survey-crap kingdom. "DON'T QUESTION ME, I'M WITH THE GOVERNMENT!!!! Before you go…Sir, um, I have a few questions for you. Firstly, are you near your dresser, Sir."

​"I'm lying on my bed; yes." He confirmed.

​"Fantastic; What brand do you wear, Hanes, Fruit Of The Loom?? Any other brand, sir??"

​"Not--Not sure, actually. Its both, I'm sure of that.." He confirmed.

​"Great. Now, you can stop me if I'm getting slightly too personal here—"

​"Alright, Shoot."

​ I put the phone down and spun in my chair for a quick 2 seconds before grabbing the phone and pressing it to my ear. The laughing was echoing all through my throat as I kept the next words rattling in my head, anticipating release from my tongue. It was it's diving board.

​"Mr, Russo….How big are you??"

​ Sparks ignited in my mouth, I was so close to exploding into a giggle. But I had composure, sure. The line was dead for a few seconds.

​Then, "Excuse me??"

​"Uh, How large are you down there, Mr. Russo…?"

​"Down there…? I don't—I don't understand the situation, What does this have to—"

​ "Never mind….carry on with the procedure, Sir. Time is of the essence…" Haha, pushing Justin's buttons was really fun. If he were to tell me, I was sure to be laughing my butt off, no doubt. I was pretty sure his cheeks were in a fit of a fiery pink.

​"Ugh," He moved away from the phone. Suddenly feet shuffling around in his room slowly turned into quiet pads of footsteps along the hardwood paving our hallway. I hid myself momentarily. "Stupid Communists," He muttered as he droned down the steps. Hahahah! I had to see this.

***********************************************************************************

He said, "Stupid commies," got up & walked downstairs. HAHA! I laughed so hard I had to move from the speaker. Twit Pic .com /isz3r

2:20 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

***********************************************************************************

​ Peeking through the railing did I see Justin, almost slumping over to our family fridge like he was a zombified menace and it was filled to the top with brains floating in juice. Ew, I should be putting that into people's heads at this hour. Anyway, my hand trapped my mouth closed as Justin approached the freezer and opened the door.

​**CLICK,CLICK**

​ Oh crap!! I rushed from the steps and sprinted into my room before our followers were aware of what was going on. I wasn't completely sure if the sound that randomly jumped out was my parents, but I couldn't be too sure, you know. It was, like 4 something!! I slipped behind my door and slowly shut it, keeping my giggles low. Only two steps near the comfort of my bed was there a giant shatter in the distance. I winced as it echoed to my room.

"What was that?!" My dad's voice shouted again. After 2 minutes of time were left open, a soft putter-patter of slow feet stretched out to the steps and continued out of earshot to the living quarters Justin had violated.

******************************************************

There was a huge crash downstairs and my parents woke up. THE MORON!! HAHAHA!!! Twit Pic .com /isza1

Better get to bed. If I do love Justin tomorrow it'll be with a bat marking in his head. Know-it-all snooze goblin!

2:29 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

My parents are literally screaming at Justin. And this is me laughing in my finally dark room /it0ad

2:45 AM Sep 23rd from Echofon

******************************************************

I grinned as my eyes fluttered closed.

There Was Yelling. I liked Yelling....

I'll update soon. I need at least 8-10 reviews to continue. There's a lot to come, be aware and have this one under ALERT. Next chap is in Justins Perspective.

Bye.  
RIO.  
be sure to add AlexLuvsJustin and ItsTheJ_Man on Twitter!!​


	5. Justin: Chapter 4: The Naked Bandit

_**Justin**_

_**"The Naked Bandit"**_

I found myself grumbling incoherent words and phrases as I made my way around the spiral staircase to the landing on the loft, iPhone in hand. The loft was surprisingly cold in its later hours, not really an object to my surprise seeming as dad always was always complaining about the heating bill being too high.

After tripping over my own bare feet down that one step separating the dining area from the living room, I approached the freezer, eyes nearly shut and in a daze. A smoky husk of cold brushed against my face. The freezer was stuffed with piles upon piles of frozen confectionaries. With a grunt, I grouped most of them in my arms—despite how cold they all were—and slammed them onto the granite kitchen counter near me. I didn't have a care in the world; all I wanted to do was get rid of my possibly infectious underwear and get the heck out of there.

So then I bended down and lifted my legs to tear them off. It was quick, they clung to my groin area then they were in my hands and in the freezer, just like that. I stuffed them next to a tub of praline crunch ice cream and slammed the door closed.

With another exasperated huff, I pulled the phone back up to my ear.

"Okay, now what?"

The toneless, scratchy friction that could only be the buzz of some dial tone filled my ears. Well, that question was answered. My teeth clenched and I mumbled a few more incoherent phrases before stabbing the end button with my thumb. A few feet away, I heard a few fidgety whispers and a sudden greeting of a blue light kissed the hardwood floor next to my feet. My head cocked to the side at it.

_Huh?_

Two distinct voices were arguing behind me. I couldn't compute their gender—due to my fatigue, of course.

_Shh, I think it's that naked bandit they keep ranting about in the papers._

_Oh, you mean the one with the clown suit and he does that funny thing with his nose??_

_I said NAKED, Jerry!!_

_Oh. LETS BOOK 'IM._

"Who's that?"

"Stop it right there!" A slightly more feminine voice demanded, " OH, look, Jerry! He was trying to run off with all of our frozen treats!"

Oh, no. _MOM._

"You really _are as EVIL and NAKED as they say!!" _The other was stern and aggressive. What was worse was, it was dad's type of aggressive.

"AHH!" I yelled. In a fluid movement, I covered my groin area then reached for the decorative fruit bowl sitting atop the counter next to the sink and then used that. There stood my parents , hidden in the mid-darkness. My mother, Theresa was in her pink pajamas with a blue night robe, armed with her lucky wooden bat. She told me this story all the time where she had a wrestling match in the street with a girl from school over a pair of golden hoops and she used it on her. My father, in his dark-red checkered pajamas, stood next to her, holding up that flashlight he used to, well…get through the house when there was intruders.

The blue speckle of light bounced up to my face. "JUSTIN?!" My father exclaimed.

"Jus—What?! What are you doing down here with no clothes on?!"

"It-it-it-wa—" Yeah, I tend to stutter like a baboon when I'm standing in the kitchen butt-naked at 3 a.m. with my parents staring me down. "The UIA!" I shouted, pointing my finger out at the name finally staining my memory.

"What?" Asked Dad.

"The UIA! The Underwear Inspection Agency!" I babbled, attempting to explain. Their faces morphed into masks of confusion. "Yeah, I sound pretty stupid…" I whispered to myself.

"Justin…" My mom called, casually walking over to me, placing an "unarmed-bat" hand on my right shoulder. She realized what she did then briefly let go. "Before I ask you to go put some clothes on, I want to let you know that there's NO such thing as The UIA. Not the LSU, the _BTA_, the _ABC_."

"And most certainly," My dad cut in, "There's no naked bandit. That's a relief on our part."

We both gave him incredulous stares; he just shrugged.

"But I was pretty sure there was an Unde—OH, THISISAN_ALEX_THING!"

"Yep." My parents agreed. I nodded then turned and made my way for the steps with both of my hands still pressing the handcrafted decorative bowl to my groin area.

"Hey, do you want this bo—"

"KEEP IT." My parents begged at the same moment.

I ran upstairs and rushed into my room. My feet pounded against the floor really hard; there was not a moment where a step didn't send a rigid creak through the floorboards. My ears perked up to special sounds now, especially the hushed leap of a snigger. I was brought to a halt at my door when I had the strangest feeling creep over me. A breath catching, a quiet racket of noises tumbling over one another. I grimaced at the doorknob as my fingers turned the knob and entered my room.

It wasn't one second into the room that I took out my phone and began texting Alex. It was two seconds after my room reached her arm through the door and threw my underwear to my bed did I spring up and dart on my own pajamas, texting the whole time.

"You—Are—So—Dead—Tomorrow—"

Then I imagined how she could've "tweeted" this entire experience to a calamity of people she hadn't even known. Gah, Twitter. It was like gum stuck to the bottom of the seat of the internet—more like the THRONE. Alex was a pretty popular; it made me shiver to think of her reputation—or even _growing_ reputation she made with those people. Maybe a surprise was in order.

"Getting—Twitter—Tomorrow…" I said the words to myself as I typed them, grinning at the screen the entire time.

I chuckled as the homepage for popped up on my iPhone browser.

_I may even get a kick out of this._

* * *

_**Sorry if you think this is short. Not enough material to use for this one. This is from before Justin created his Twitter account, the reason for no tweets. The next chap switches back to Alex, and her varied reaction. I'll update soon!!! Gotta check more TWEETS.**_

_**Rio :)**_


	6. Alex: Chapter 5: Alarm? Since When?

_This chapter is in Alex's point of view, as is the next one. As for the two after those, Justin's POV takes over. Just thought I'd let you know. Give me results and feedback, please! I have over thirty chapters planned out for this, but sadly I lost the tweets recently due to my computer crashing (I uploaded this at school, during keyboarding class) So i have to retreive them. AlexLuvsJustin currently has over 8,000 tweets so far **SO IT MIGHT TAKE A WHILE**. As for ItsTheJ_Man, about over 5000. Gosh..._

_Enjoy. **Rio.**_

* * *

I was curled up into my mattress, pressing back a fighting laugh behind my lips as shouting voices shot through the wall next door. Muted, even, I could still tell they were surging with anger. And for once, boy was I grateful that anger wasn't aimed at me. My next prediction would be my parents barging down the door and my father's face glooming over me, creased red.

But once again, I wasn't worried.

The voices died down, then a few footsteps tumbled down the hall, out of my hearing range. Then all was still; I felt the house shaking soundly under some crazy wind outside of my windows. I nestled deeper into one of my favorite, plushy pillows I always loved squishing my head into. Cold was sent out once I pulled the wooly material of my blanket around me.

Lemme tell you, _much_ better than the one dad knitted for me.

Not two seconds passed after I shut my eyelids did a light bounce in front of them.

_Ugh, morning already?? Psh, seemed likely._

There was grogginess shuddering in me when i sat up in my bed to brush back the bristles of hair around my eyes. Oh, any single person was so lucky they didn't bring any light here. Well, unless they were fond of my fist to their gut. I looked over at the luminance in the shape of a rectangle shining up and hitting the ceiling from my side dresser. My arm reached over to my iPhone and I stared down in a squint at the blue text message box on the home screen.

_You are so dead tomorrow._

The five letter death-sentence put a very satisfied grin on my face. I rolled my eyes towards the ceiling and situated my fingers to send a threat right on back.

_You can DREAM ON, or you can GO TO SLEEP. Your pick. Night. :)_

Oh, sweet irony.

Frustration knocked at my brain the next morning. Sure, I was a night owl, but not an early bird. The bland squawk of my monotone alarm clock exploded an announcement.

GET UP. GET UP. GET UP. GET UP. GET UP. GET UP. GET UP.

"Oh, hush up!" I swatted over the slim, white clock onto my cushion-y carpet. Then, without delay, jolted from my bed made a furious stride over to my windows, dodging an irritating blast of sun. I the fabrics together to meet, making a block-off for the blinding sun.

_I thought I closed these,_ I growled in my head, _why is the sun so bright this time of morning anyway? The sun shows up completely at 6 or 7, not 5:30!_

An ache crackled u in my chest and before I knew it, I was strangling my alarm clock by is sides.

"What..?" I muttered. Yes, the clock wasn't lying. The glowy ticks forming numbers now read a nifty 5:33 on its dial. I fought down the puke, which was going though a quick travel up my throat. Then, rising to my feet, a scowl crept over. "Oh, he is _so_ dead!"

The alarm clock soundlessly smacked against my carpet again. I then made an attempt to tear my door from its hinges. Going into the hallway, I left a trail of dust and ashes behind me—not forgetting the blaze of fire already around me—progressing to the room of Mr. _Blockhead_.

I strangled the doorknob and shook it.

His doorknob was nearly putty in my hands; but if only I could open the door. You know, I'd have tried kicking it down but who knows what kind of uproar that would cause.

Should I?

_You should._

"_He messed up my clock, so unlock this lock,_" I chanted. With ease, I clicked the doorknob then forced the door from its frame with a wild kick. Guess this is what those FBI dudes feel like when they investigate.

"Justin, when I'm through with--" My words trailed off with no exclaim, no gasp from the voice I thought I would hear biting with anxiety.

Justin's cleanliness habit _really_ got on my nerves. His bed was perfectly pressed and made up, pillows neat and sheets tucked under without a hitch. Huh, the loser even had that penny set on the side, y'know, when you bounce it off to check if it's perfect? Seen it a few times; I _used_ to think it was cool.

A bundle of ironed band tees, v-necks and other really bad clothes Justin owned were set in a basket next to his closet door. A whole stack of those—oh, boo, what do you call 'em?—psh, right, yeah, those textbooks were piled on top of his desk in the corner. Next to his desk sat a vast bookcase I almost overlooked. They had books that would knock me unconscious if I couldn't catch 'em when they fell out.

_All so orderly; it makes me sick...or was that—what __**is**__ that?!_

There was febreze in the air; sure, the room called for it. But along with it was the other smell that drove me absolutely insane, but not in the sense where I wanted to gouge my eyes out—not the psycho insane. The other one, where you're stuck in some dream you don't want to leave from. I couldn't quite make out what it reminded me off.

Remembering my brutal mission, I fled the room and went to my next target—it reeked of too much spare time and consideration: two things I never give a second thought to.

Bursting through another door, as snore as loud as a bull horn startled me.

"Max?"

My head tocked upward at my little brother. Upward was the key word being he was dead asleep in a hammock with his arms and legs strewn out over the sides. Really, a hammock?? Okay, this was officially the only time i'd give him the props of a genius. Wish I'd thought of it sooner.

"Max!" I called.

"WHOA!" His shout was nearly as obnoxiously loud as his snore. In a brisk movement, he rolled out of the hammock braiding onto his bed, rolled off of that and crashed against the carpet with a _thud_.

"Why is there a hammock in your room? Don't tell me you stole it from the vacation resort 'cause you totally nabbed dibs on my plan!"

Max twitched a few times then made a painful struggle to his feel. Great; I wasn't gonna help him up anyway. At least he wasn't broken, or crying. I'd feel horrible either way, I'm sure.

"Okay, _ach_," Max worked out a kink in his back, "So I let out those little critters we learned about in wizard class..."

"Those black things with the legs that made Justin squeal?" I asked.

"Yeah; they're around this room and I don't want to get in trouble with Mom," He explained, "You _promise_ not to tell him or Mom?"

"Sure," I agreed, bumping his knuckles, "But wouldn't Mom still be mad if she sees the—"

The clueless look upon Max's face caused me to pause and throw my last words to the wind.

"—Never mind. Now, where's Justin?"

Max suddenly took on a heartbroken mug, head hanging and shoulders slumping in despair. He sighed and looked at me with big brown eyes.

"Alex?" I found his hand resting on my shoulder. Some sympathy was in his face, like he felt sorry and had to break something to me. "He's gone...the seven-headed gorgon ate him. He tried to save me, but it" –he sniffed and sobbed—"It devoured him..."

"Oh, so you're not insane—but you're _insane_?"

"Huh?"

"He's not dead, Max!" I explained, "He set my alarm clock back, It's 5:30! I'm lucky to wake up for school before 9:30!"

"Oh, it's 5:30?? I never notice 'cause I'm too caffeinated all the time."

"Right...anyway. He's not dead, but when I'm through with him he'll be pushing up daisies."

"Oh! Mom loves daisies, she'll be so happy! Although, Justin already got her flowers for mother's day..."

Why did he always see past the point I was trying to enlighten? "Max—haha, yeah, I meant he'll be dead when I'm done."

"But I thought you said—"

"Forget what I said! GOSH, you're just so..." I made a rushed exit from Max's room, massaging my forehead. I went down our twisty staircase to the lower level of the loft. A low ramble of a voice yanked my eyes over to the television set on the far end of the room. My eyes fell upon Justin reclining in the orange armchair with his feet up, taking in his fill of the morning news. He was fully dressed from head to toe—apart from his shoes which sat on the floor—wearing that dark red, striped button-up with the sleeves up, half undone (the lumberjack shirt, I called it). Under that was simply a t-shirt, and some faded blue jeans.

Some kind of cereal sat in his lap—over some tray, I might add. Anything to be cleanly and it still sickened me. The cereal probably wasn't one of my favorites. I always ate the sugary classics along with Max, while Justin either had something else or rarely followed my trend.

Next, I did the thing you always do when you confront somebody: I snatched up the remote, cut of the TV, shoved his feet off of the table and took a seat where they had been. And yes, my dangerous stink eye is very much worth mentioning. Not sure if my random appearance was the reason for him freezing up though.

"Justin, would you mind pointing out what's wrong with this picture?" Quietly I sat, an eyebrow raised and arms crossed. My barefoot tapped the bristly caper in the rhythm of a metronome.

"Uhm, you need to cover up?" He said with an overplayed sarcasm. Why did he always find me not smart?

Then I looked down to find major cleavage showing through my blue and white nightshirt. A flush of pink left smooth tracks across my cheeks. I adjusted my shirt from behind me so my chest wasn't showing as much. He rolled his eyes and looked down at his breakfast, shoveling through it a few times.

"Why were you looking...?"

"Not too hard not to notice, Alex. If you weren't taking every option to make yourself look more appealing, maybe I wouldn't have..."

I sighed, and then shifted my focus to his food. EW. What was he eating?

"What is that?" My face scrunched up. It was a grayish-brown mush with a bunch of craisins floating at the top like it was their personal swimming pool.

"Uh, oatmeal?" He said in a tone that was criticizing. Like I didn't know what oatmeal was!

"Huh, old people food?" I toyed with the stings of his violin emotions.

"Ha-ha, Alex. It's good for your heart," he explained.

I scoffed, then with more edge I said, "You know what _isn't_ good for you?"

"That double cheeseburger you downed the other day?" He hounded me with a laugh.

"Hey," I exclaimed. My train of thought switched tracks for a little bit, "It was a full moon."

Justin's shiny white grin spread as he chuckled at my explanation.

"Speaking of fast food, heard of a knuckle sandwich? Yeah, I hand those out pretty fast, and that glop you call oatmeal doesn't really count as food, so..."

He tipped the bowl upward, so the brim of it could touch his lips, obviously ignoring me. I sneered with the idea forming in my head.

_Quick, before he's done!_

Like lightning, my hand forced the bowl onto Justin's face.

_Splat._

Alex, 1.

"AUGH...._ALEX!_" He shouted. Well, there was my cue to start running. A laugh exploded out of me as I beat him to his next move, already at my feet and running to stand behind the counter. Justin lashed up from the table in anger, but didn't fail to set the bowl down with care. I readied myself in the football player stance as he ran to the opposite side, matching the pose. His face, stained with oatmeal the whole way over like a mask of cement almost distracted me. We went slowly around the counter in reversed directions, fingers gliding along granite.

Then we were flying about to and fro, left to right. He found it difficult swerving around the bar stools around the island. For some reason I couldn't find my feet at all at some point. he found my weakness in seconds, taking advantage of me being bare foot while he was in socks.

He flew around the counter in a nano-second with this husky snicker in his voice. I tried running again but was cornered with a body twice the size of mine and attacked with arms wrapping around me.

_"Gotcha!"_

My voice crackled with a scream that quickly turned into laughter. My feet lifting from the ground was as short a scare as going into deeper waters in the local pool at age seven.

Justin spun me in crazed circles, laughing along with me.

"You're gonna get it now!" He threatened playfully.

"Whoa, put me down!" I laughed in a yell. The merry-go-round went all the way to the sink where he finally put me down.

"Get this off, now." He demanded with a chortle. I obliged faster that I expected, grabbing the cloth draped over the faucet bar and making a reach for his face.

"Ah, ah, ah," He halted me, "Get a clean one." He asked, raising a finger sharply.

"Fine, gosh," I complained. I knelt down to retrieve one from the bottom cabinet, all the while muttering, "_Don't know why I don't just stuff you in the disposal_," under my breath.

Justin, with his fox ears, asked, "What was that?"

"I said, shut up." I then stood up and wiped his face clean.

"Thanks," he said. Our eyes touched in that instant, but the both of us had broken that hold in just that amount of time. My eyebrows creased over as that heavenly scent from Justin's room loomed over me again.

"What is that?" I asked him, sniffing the air.

"What? _Is it me?_" A look of fear spread crossed his face.

"Yeah," I told Justin. Call it like an attraction—a fatal attraction— but I didn't hesitate that one step I took towards him. I got nearly an inch from Justin's button-up—shutting my eyes almost pressing my nose against the fabric--taking a few whiffs of the scent that drove me crazy. Justin didn't breathe a word until I stood back in my original spot.

"That definitely isn't funk, Justin," I said, sort of surprised. "What is that?"

"Oh!" He exclaimed with a grin, like a light bulb went off in his head. "It's this new cologne. I guess you caught on."

"And you've worn cologne since...?"

"Since _my lady_ gave it to me as an anniversary gift." He stated with a sly smile, obviously cheeky with himself. Then he sighed with passion, staring past me dreamily "Isn't she just so wonderful?"

"Yeah, she's a joy." I agreed with a hard edge of sarcasm in my voice, rolling my eyes.

I'm not some plank of wood standing in front of him! Hopefully he didn't see the sharp edge I put on those words; didn't make it out as jealousy. Maybe he was too into dreaming about the deceased girl of his dreams to pick up my aggressive reception.

Juliet Van-Heusen was that stable wall standing between Justin and me. If I didn't know any better and wanted to risk this whole thing slipping through the cracks, I would've had some awesome plan already devised to get her out of the way. I'm not stupid, apparently, and I'm also feeling charitable this time of year (_Don't_ get used to it) in addition to Juliet being one of my best friends.

_So...yeah; might wanna file that one away._

"Well, I'm shocked, Justin. It smells really good."

"Thanks, Alex." He was pleased that I said something nice. His head fell to watch what he was doing as he tried fixing the buttons on his shirt. Then the ice went chilled as he looked up at me, gray eyes slitted, suspicious, and sharp, like darts on a dartboard.

"_What did you do...?_" He said in a cold tone, low and almost whisper-worthy.

"I didn't do anything, dear brother," I filled him in with a plain attitude. My crossed arms and sneaky grin didn't reveal the truth too well. But, really, it was too much fun making his conscience go out of whack.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted us.

"Oh! What a sight for sore eyes!" My mother exclaimed joyfully, moving down the step and approaching us, "You've never gotten up before you were supposed to."

"And who did that?" Justin interjected, moving up to my side, _"...This guy!_" He congratulated himself, and I stuck a tongue out at him.

"Oh! Well, thanks, Justin!" My mother added in as she moved inbetween us to get to the fridge, "I just had to get some meats we left up here.."

"Wait until I tell your father!" She retrieved them and continued along her way, walking back to the steps.

"Hey, Honey!" She called down the steps, smiling over at us, then looking back.

_"What?"_

"Guess who's up _EARLY_ this morning? It's Alex!!"

There was suddenly a violent clatter of dishes smashing that made us jump, and his arms tightened around me for half a second.

"_Oh! _Jerry!!" My mother complained, rushing back down the staircase.

Something happened when silence wafted over the room again. I hadn't noticed but we were tangled around each other, still a bit shocked at the sound.

Then we pushed off of one another; I rolled my eyes, smirking and crossing my arms while he laughed nervously.

"Sorry, Alex," He apologized for the hug. Why?

"It's alright..." I said.

"So, you wanna get dress—"

I shoved a hand in his face. "No, I don't actually—Whoa!"

"I'll make you..." He proposed, laughing. In a second, I was hoisted up and in his arms, something to which I was kicking and carrying on to put me down.

"NO! C'mon, Justin, put me down!"

"No....you're going to adjust to this morning schedule whether you like it or not." He said.

"Wow, getting carried every morning—I could get used to that."

"Don't hold your breath." He plainly put.

* * *

_Hey. This was a very Jalexy chapter, I put a lot of moments in!! Haha. Uh, the next one should be up not too long after this one. WARNING: It's really sad. Not sure if you'll cry, but it sort of mimics the competition scene in an annoying **"why-are-you-acting-like-this" **way (i.e it has something to do with Justin) to the point where he could be OOC. Idk. NVM._

_**GIVE ME AT LEAST 10 MORE COMMENTS AND I SHALL UPDATE!!!** The next chapter is almost done and it's well worth the wait!!!_

_Well, Later. :)_

_Rio._


	7. Alex: Chapter 6: Confrontation

Next chapter is in Justin's POV, happening shortly after this one.

Rio. :) COMMENT!!!

Alex

"The truth Comes out…"

It was the way he could move though a room unannounced that made me shiver; even more how he'd pop up out of nowhere and exchange some kind of face with me. Whatever it was, I was always finding either fun or annoyance in its quality before I spoke or before he spoke, given the situation. Now it was just me being ashamed and tortured whenever he'd take a glance in my direction, and he saw right to it, wanting to make me feel better with sugar-coated words that meant what they echoed.

Dean never did that.

I always knocked that thought out cold when it came to me. Like a prized fighter who never earned their trophy. It didn't make me feel any better--didn't change things. Huh, Dean is no longer here.

We still fought, threw knife-sharp insults and words of wit back and forth, but only where he had to argue back were he ever harsh. He still saw me at my best, my worst; saw right to me.

_Just like the time he smacked against the glass doorway out to the terrace on my 13__th__ birthday._

The text message I was looking at flew out of the window as I covered my mouth, laughing behind my fingers.

"What's so funny?" An electric current bumped me from my thoughts, forced my neck up towards the voice that came out of the blue.

"Wha--oh." The snake in the room revealed itself to be a helpless bunny. What was worse, a helpless bunny reading a _book_. Yeah—_gag me. _As if the wings fluttering around my stupid heart weren't distracting already.

There, in the orange-cushioned armchair opposite of me, was Justin. He was eyeing me questioningly, the book resting on the ankle that sat on his right knee. My eyes then shifted over to a heavy stack that was settled on the stony table in-between us. The thumb and pointer finger of his right hand fiddled with the edge of the book's bundle of pages while his head leaned on the other. My stomach curdled as his mouth slowly curled into a grin, despite his confused face.

A bone-white ran through my face, discoloring it. My look then changed into an angry one, realizing it was only Justin, and the color drained back along with it.

"What are you looking at??" I grunted, throwing piercing, aggressive eyes in his direction. He glared and then faced downward; back to the microscopic words on the pages of that stone tablet he called a book.

"I just wanted to know what you were giggling to yourself about. No need to get hostile, Alex." He always puts that livid edge on my name when he said it like that. Remembering all of the times I'd ignored it....it was an instant surprise to find that it actually made me feel...bad.

My lips cringed down into a frown. In a split second I noticed the pain of my mouth muscles tightening up; it hurt. I shook it off like a shawl over me; I was so happy he didn't' see because I would've showed weakness, trouble—the two things that fueled a fire in him.

_Psh, I'm invincible, as far as all of you know. _But invincibility doesn't make up for open-mindedness, especially when your feelings have you're trapped in a room two times smaller than your average bathroom.

"You..." It spoke itself, introducing a smaller side of me, "—You remember that time when you..." I giggled again as I stared across at Justin, picturing the memory exactly. "You ran headfirst into the glass door to the terrace on my 13th birthday?"

He laughed immediately, then looked up at me with a smile. His pearly-whites showing through his parted lips split my focus in just enough time to snap a pencil.

"That—that was something," He chuckled, "I had this enormous knot kneaded into my forehead for, like, 2 days."

"Yeah, you were--"--I covered my mouth and chuckled into it for a moment, then took it away—"—You were trying to get outside before the birthday song was finished. Mom said you wanted that cake _so_ bad!"

"OH YEAH!" He exclaimed, eyes twinkling with the memory. "It was that special one that had, like, five flavors! Oh, that was so good...it was worth it!!"

I snickered still, cheesing, while he shook his head, eyes aimed at another spot of the room as if he was reminiscing.

More memories floated back into my head; but they had this one fatal quality about themselves...their weight was so unbearable. Each one piled on my back like I was cheap, greasy pack mule. I nearly teared up, although I kept telling myself not to.

My iPhone started its own mini-earthquake, shaking and vibrating on the table.

Then the room grew silent once again. Justin was leaned over in his seat now, elbows balanced on the tops of his knees, aimlessly twiddling his fingers together. An emotion took me over, I didn't know what it was, but...but my tears actually started pouring without my permission. They were tears of joy turned into tears of misery. Of want. Of an unsatisfied need.

Justin looked up from the floor at me and his neutral look changed in an instant to a confused one. His eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed halfway as he examined my breakdown.

"What's wrong, Alex?" His concern showed like a heart on his sleeve.

The words hurt to get out of my throat, "N-Nothing. I'm just—happy."

He grunted, puzzled. Eyelids tightening in a suspicious squint, he responded saying, "That's odd. I considered your terms of 'happy'"—his air quotes made me chuckle to myself—"—would be laughing at some poor, innocent student after you pushed him down a stairwell."

I straightened up and wiped my tears with my bare arm, pointing a finger in defense, "He asked for it!"

"Tch," Scoffed Justin, "Right. Not letting you copy off of his History quiz is a federal crime."

"Good," I said, swiveling my legs around to graze out on the couch. Everyone calls this my "nap-while-class-is-going-on" position. "You understand, then. You get some cuffs, I get a siren, and we're in business...how's that sound??"

His chest moved with a silent hum of laughter at my joke, which was referring to us as a team. I knew he didn't find that weird. Me countering his sarcasm blatantly just proved that I was joking.

I was _always_ joking. I was Alex—just little baby sister Alex. That was my only title. Well, that, and "Sheriff McSneaky" by Mr. Laritate on numerous occasions when I'd stop by his office for a coffee break—A break from sliding down the stairwell rail, or roaming the halls unattended. He was pretty generous about the stuff, too.

A fully stretched leer was aimed at me by Justin; could feel it etching a blur of pink on my cheeks as I stared at the ceiling.

"You have no idea how fearless you are, Alex," he said. The words rang with the envy of a compliment more than an insult. Suddenly, it seemed that quality wasn't childish in his eyes. That was why I didn't understand it. It was like trying to find a like to one of those tacky, overdone runway dresses that looked like future Halloween costumes...they always say "it has a meaning", but you can never find it. It's useless, really. "To live without rules and to not be condemned if you get caught is not the way to go...but it means you've got guts. That's so foreign to me, you know? Just thinking about any of the schemes you get yourself into makes my tongue dry out..."

A bouncy giggle slid through my lips. "Your—your _tongue?"_

"Never mind. But...whether you're some corporate big-shot—_don't count on it in this life_..."--He noticed my bigger grin, and added that in that bit with his own smile—"...Or a high-school drop out who's arrested and sent to prison...you'll always be my sister. And I'm proud of whatever you become, or whatever you persue..."

Whatever...I persue?? What about _Who_-ever?

The smile I offered was as soft as a cloud, its gentle touch as genuine. A ball of warmth bubbled up in the pit of my stomach. Indigestion? Psh, no. This feeling was more than that, no pain was involved...

_Huh?? Just wait, you'll get gaggy when you figure out what's going on..._

"Me too." I said meaningfully, then added, "I meant me, of course, blockhead."

He rolled his eyes, but his smile was still there.

_Closure._

_Just Closure...along with sickness and sadness and regret and pain. Love dosnt define all of those things, does it?_

If you're ever up for checking the dictionary...let me know, 'kay?

"Ha, even though I bet I could execute some of those plans more cleanly than you..." he gathered. I passed him an evil glare and he froze a little bit, "...that doesn't necessarily mean I'd have the guts to see them through. I commend you for that—_But don't do anything that'll destroy public property in the near future, okay?_"

I laughed, My face softened in features and the corners of my mouth turned back up.

"Okay, Justin, okay..." I agreed nodding.

"Good." The corner of his lip turned up as he relaxed.

Our visions connected now; we saw eye to eye. He grabbed his book and settled back into his reading, but still I gazed at him. I bit my lip when I realized something.

_It's quiet...All you can hear is that really weird clock that dad bought at that garage sale ticking on the wall!! Don't you think now would be the best time to...you know, tell him??_

All of the blood seeped to my face as I readied myself.

"Hmm, you haven't spoken in a..." Then he looked up at me from his reading. "What...? Why are you smiling...?" I felt the suspicion brimming the edge of that question from all the way where I sat.

"Nothing...I just...I love you, Justin..." I said simply, unconsciously taking a deep breath.

He gave me the hugest grin in return. His eyes, stones of gray, smoothed out and deepened into a liquid before me, like a floor of rock under the surface of a shallow, light pond.

_Aw, great...You hit that one spot that gets him all emotional. Well done...now let's just hope this doesn't get all sappy..._

"Aww, come here..." He cooed. I got settled into a sitting position and got up to move around the table. I took a few steps and he returned them until we met in the middle. His arms wrapped around me in a yielding hold. I stood there, eyes shut, as he rocked me back and forth and leaned his cheek against the crown of my head. I was like a doll there. Little did he know I was breaking down, wasting away before him.

"I love you, too, Alex..." The cutesy tone in his voice sounded fraternal and too sweet, something a gushy father would lather on to her daughter to ensure that she'd always be safe. I wanted so much to puke, but not fully in ways I expected. Half of me wished to puke out of disgust of the fluff-fest, the other half purely from the explosion of crushing warmth throwing a party in my gut, and the crushing hug (he did always hug a little too tight).

He tore from me quicker than I could anticipate, headed for the door to the sub shop. His exit would bring back the cold full-circle if I didn't say it now. The little phrases that would encourage me were simply the worst multiple-choice question on the most dangerous test rattling in my head, with such a short time, at that. Gosh, I didn't even have time to take a nap! Oh, wait a second, _I hardly sleep anymore_. I was lucky to still have hair; each day I've wanted to rip every last strand of it out.

The question was the hardest to decide on, and I couldn't skip it and come back to it or I'd be hurt again.

THE TURNOUT

He'll understand, I promise.

It'll all boil over, you'll see

Just say it and get it over with.

_Right; some encouragement. Hey, I got rid of two answers, didn't I? My sneaky conscience didn't persuade me all that much, anyway. Let me get this over with, before I'm bald and Looney._

"No, Justin, I..."

A desire tore under my skin, my revolting secret a hummingbird bouncing around and chirping in my chest to be set free. He turned to me; I rushed up to meet him at the closest point possible before I burst at the seams. He stood there, waiting.

"What?"

"Justin..." My head fell. _Ugh, shame and karma go on my list.... _"I'm...I'm _in love_ with you..."

I braced myself for the impact and closed my eyes enough that I could squint.

Justin's face fell in astonishment for a second, eyes widening as his chest rose and fell with one deep gust.

_Oh no...Here it comes._

A booming laughter shook my eardrums. Justin snapped the atmosphere in two, curling over in laughter as I opened my eyes.

"HAHAHA! Okay---heheh, Alex...you are officially _the_ funniest person I know; Hilarious stuff."

He spun his back to me and began for the door, shaking his head and snickering under his breath. It was a joke? Really, now? was joking, little, baby sister Alex again, huh??

Little, Joking, Baby Sister Alex.

I wouldn't mind if those two words were eliminated from any relation to me in Justin's eyes. That'd take a wish, and look where that scenario got me. It earned me a place in a hell even _I_ couldn't see as wimpy and uninteresting. There was irony here—it bit me on the butt.

"No! I'm not kidding!" I shouted desperately at his back. "Justin--"

"Oh, I know what you're doing..." His voice interrupted in a low one as he kicked his leg out, spun with the other and set it down to face me again. He now stood before me with crossed arms and a finger to the air. "You're bending our little moment so you can freak me out"—His arms started waving about and his attention drifted away from me, as if he was talking to open air (more like himself) speculating like the spaz he was—"You're—You're trying to make this horrible so I'll get distracted and YOU CAN WIN THE COMPETITION!" He snapped his fingers hastily, yelling, "THAT'S IT!"

I could care less about the competition at a time like this. I was pretty sure I was gonna win anyhow. Of all of the things Justin was, inconsiderate was not one of them. Paranoid...YES.

I slumped my head back with a groan and rolled my eyes as he applauded himself. "Score one for the J-Man! Next time you try and trick me, do yourself a favor and acknowledge that I'm not that easy, _Alex_!"

"Justin, this has nothing to do with the competition!" I argued. He stood there, smirking with pride, like he had me all figured out.

_Not in this lifetime._

"That's what you'd want me to believe, Alex." He considered. My jaw fell in disbelief.

"No...Justin, I..." The thoughts only confused me; they had no agreement to meet up at the starting line. Even behind skin-tight, shut eyelids and a red-hot, fiery blast of determination I couldn't find the words to speak. They were being chucked at me and thrown at me without my cue, and I was being battered. _Hard._

I was led back to the couch, hands trapped in my shoulder length hair and fingers clawing the roots as tears poured out of their drainage systems. My leg strength wore down and I slouched weakly into the cushion on the couch. This was when Justin became more alert to the truth, focus occupied completely by me. The air grew chilled; the only sound the clatter and jangle of the four shifting bangles I wore around my trembling wrists.

I gazed up at him. His neutral face shifted, molding slightly, creasing with both a tense of sadness and a tense of horror. His soul left; it almost looked like. Was it my quivering lips pressed into the shape of an 'S'? The slight smudge of gray from my makeup around my eyes? The tears themselves?

"Justin, I have no idea how to explain it," I said, tearing, "It's like, when I'm around you there's this—this gushy warmness I'm not so used to but doesn't make me puke. Then, you're in my dreams and I don't want you to be, but you are, and I don't—."

"You...You have _feelings_ for me?! HOW—WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?!" he shouted. The shame attacked my gut and made it crumple up like some food sitting out in the sun.

"I don't know! It was vacation, i guess. It was those stares beside the fire; I was caught in your eyes...something told me to let go so many times but I...I didn't want to look away..." I looked up at him. He was sitting back down in the armchair, bent forward and carefully massaging his temples. I could already see the wounded look across his face as he listened. "Your words...you words were so sweet; you cared about me a lot more than Dean had—"

He shot up to his feet in an instant. "Okay, first off," he seemed irritated; "Dean is the type of guy who uses girls like pairs of socks. He isn't the kind of guy to really exchange a sentimental relationship with. Second of all, you shouldn't be comparing some boy you've know--what, _half a year_?—to me, whose known you your _entire life_."

_You know, he has a point. _"That's true, but, that's exactly what I mean. I've always wanted the bad guy, never the hero. Dean doesn't always come to my rescue; much less make me feel any better if it's _my_ doing."

He looked at me with a hardness pressed over his face, and anger aroused in his eyes. "Alex, _I'm_ your older brother, not him. I constantly, "come to your rescue", because I have no choice. It's our responsibility, that's what we do; we keep our younger siblings safe. It's not rocket science."

"But, it's not that. You know I'm a bad seed, but that doesn't necessarily mean I deserve some guy just as bad," I yelled at him, "That used to be what I wanted, but now...now I want a relationship where I fall into someone's arms when I get hurt, not the ground..." I exclaimed.

"_But, seriously, Alex, me of all people?!_" He shouted.

"Let me finish!" I demanded

Justin simply stood there with an anxious look on his face, tension bridging under his solitude. "Then there was the competition. I knew how much I hurt you in the past. When--When I won, just seeing you with such rejection broke me to pieces, I didn't want to hurt you anymore....and you believed me when--"

"Why do I feel like this always comes back to _me_? Like _I'm_ the one to blame?" he put out there.

"That's another thing I wanted to tell you" --I sniffed and wiped my arms across my watery lids— "I'm not going to blame any of this on you, Justin. You did what you thought was right, what was normal to you, and that was trying to make me feel like I wasn't the bad guy."

His head rolled back and he huffed annoyedly. "What did you expect me to do? Why would you even think I would leave you out there?"

"_Would you stop cutting me off?!_" I exploded in a croaky yell, deeply frustrated. I hated when he did that. He was startled at first, and then his facial features creased back into the mask of disgust that made my heart fall into the desolate pit of my stomach.

_I hated that look even more._

"...Justin..." I tried building the words again as we stood in silence for a few seconds. "You believed me when I told you that you loved me no matter what...you believed every word of it..." His look of disgust faded as he looked at me like I was a confusing puzzle—eyebrows tucked over his eyes, eyes slim and focused, lips slightly pursed.

I continued. "I said all of those things not only because of how I messed everything up, but because of how much you _did_ care for me _still_, despite the fact that you had _no idea who I was_..."

His eyes shut, and he swallowed a lump of anxiety down his throat. "I was confused then...and apparently you are now. Alex, This...isn't...right..." He said, lowly and prickly against the air like a gust of frost.

"I know about all of that, what am I, 10 years old? You have every right to be mad at me; these are my feelings, not yours! I just felt I needed to confess before I exploded."

I turned away from him. He put my body on pause as his voice split the brief silence in two. "This is the type of thing I'd much better like for you to keep to yourself."

My body reluctantly turned to him, as if he was attracting me like a metal. My mouth fell slightly wide and another tear fell as I stared at him. "And shut me out? I'm trying to be mature about this, Justin!_ Why are you being like this?!"_

He was aware of the whimper in my throat, I knew it. Anyone could guess why the air in the room grew so cold. Justin's heart was always carried in this golden cage—it represented the kindness in him, the patience, and the tolerance. Choking on that biting air felt like I was slowly losing oxygen, because Justin's heart seemed no longer like a pretty golden cage.

It seemed more like a _meat locker._

A meat lockerthat released its frosty mist inside him. And what it contained was now _dead_ in my eyes...

"Alex," he sighed my name with sympathy, "You don't..."

"You seemed like you'd be proud when I got the Stone of Dreams back and fixed my _two_ mistakes!" The pool of anger overflowed, "I thought you saw me differently, Justin...the vacation and the retest..._YOU SAID I WAS DIFFERENT THAN AUNT MEGAN, THAT I COULD FORGIVE!!" _My voice vibrated with cracks, announcing the excruciating pain I kept bottled inside. I could hardly keep the yell constant; my misery seemed to wash over like high tide.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He contradicted my statement.

"_Forgive me for my mistake, maybe?_" Nothing could stop the hostility ringing in my voice.

"I don't know whether or not I can forgive you, Alex," Justin admitted, "I'm aware of what you expect me to do, but since this whole thing just....just _distorts_ everything out of proportion, don't hold your breath on me giving you a hug and telling you this is okay..."

Why wasn't this okay?

_It's taboo. He's had an off-limits sign taped to his forehead, darn it! The thought's just been leering around in the shadows, trying to avoid up-front consideration._

Didn't I deserve something a little better than average??

_Psh, why choose him of all people? He said it himself. You've got hardly anything in common, besides the derogatory factor of blood relations and your family. Karma's such a bitch, right?_

Even if this whole situation was out of the question, and a very crazy trip down the lane of "Never Gonna Happen", it didn't mean I couldn't simply hope for a mutual relationship with Justin. Besides, I was never intended to hope anyhow, I only wanted to relieve the stress this gigantic cinderblock had hauled over my stability. Hope isn't my friend anyway, neither is Faith, apparently. Hope and Faith went hand-in-hand and ditched me at the ticket booth to the concert I waited an entire _3 to 4 months_ for. _Some support system._

_Hmm, who knew I was this deep?_

"Is it wrong for me to want you to like me?"

"Of course." He answered. "I've always liked you, Alex, but not in the ways you think I might've intended. No brother and sister should have that intimate of a relationship!" His tone grew tense and bothered, frustration piling on, "We-we-we share the same younger brother, the same home, the same parents! Come _ON_, Alex, how could you not think this is **wrong?!**"

"Is it so wrong to want something you can't have...?" I whispered to him, taking a step forward.

"No, it's not..." He plainly stated. My eyes sent a shockwave of contradiction for his mind to process. His eyes then clamped shut to disrupt my stare, and his two front teeth dove--with frustration--into his bottom lip and pulled it in. "...I mean, yes, yes, it is! Stop doing that..." Justin reconsidered.

"I'm not trying to psyche you out, for the last time!" I declared, "Justin...when you're so vulnerable by someone you don't have half the mind to worry about that!"

"Right; because I've never fallen in love with my _**blood relative**_!" He countered. He shook his head and made his exit, but not completely before I could stop him.

I lightly pressed my hands onto Justin's forearms and trailed up, trying to abate his conscious. Surely it was being threatened with the inner battle of right and wrong boggling through his mind like a professional soccer game. He came back to the life with the touch of my fingertips to his skin and repelled my compassion, sharp, gray eyes re-interlocking chains around my misconduct.

"Stop...being a child." His voice was stern, strung in a blunt irritation. Rejection was only the fuel for me to keep trying until I was option less. Attempting to swat my arms away many time, I suddenly froze as he gripped onto my wrists, aggressively demanding them to stay still. Our faces inches apart, I saw a lifting quake of grey casting upon me, eyes unaffected by the tears running down my face and my quivering lips.

He held me stiffly, and with teeth clenched, he spoke, "Alex Russo, I've always been annoyed by you and that's a given...but never in my life have I ever been _disgusted_. You need to _get a grip _and let this go."

An angry flame was rekindling in my gut; I wanted so much to punch my brother _dead in his face_. He then turned away and rushed to the door, but not before I could scream my lungs out.

"FINE, BE MAD AT ME! RIP ME APART JUST BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT TO RISK TEARING MYSELF APART BECAUSE OF THIS...you—just..." My body shuddered with sorrow as I broke down into another cry, stamping my foot. My eyes squeezed shut and spurted tears and my lips continued to quiver uncontrollably. "You're not—_Ugh..!_" I whined childishly.

_Maybe I was being a child. _

He approached me quickly, "So, you risk tearing _us_ apart...?" He asked, hand pointed to his chest. There was an extremely thin layer of tears in Justin's eyes when he spoke those words. He regained composure, blinking them back, shaking his head. The harp strings in my heart continued to snap and twinge.

"You don't see what I'm trying to say..." I told him.

"Oh, so now, _I'm_ the one who doesn't understand?" He predicted, pointing to himself once again.

"Yes." I declared with more force, my teeth clenched.

"_Really?_" His eyes went slim and stabbing again.

"Yes."

He laughed as if I humored him. "Oh, right, so I'm not the one who establishes this as a completely unethical thing? You surely don't understand something this badly flawed, Alex. You've matured, but you've still got some _serious_ growing up to do and get over this."

"Just keep pouring out your hateful words, Justin!" I shouted with full force, and he groaned and rolled his eyes, "Once again, and hopefully for the final time, you can blame this all on me. But _YOU-CAN'T-STAND HERE_" –My fist banged on our learning desk with every word—"And tell me it's not okay for only getting this off my chest!"

"Well, then, maybe I shouldn't be standing here..." He said, half-turned to the door. "I'm _done_, Alex!" He said in the opposite direction, making a walk for the door. "And don't start talking because I'm leaving whether you like it or not..." He traced a trail of ice in his wake, but I was quicker, I left a trail of fire.

In a few swift, faster steps, I shrugged past Justin and turned to face him, barricading his only exit.

"Alex..." He sighed, raising his right hand to his forehead, massaging his temples with his thumb and middle finger, "Get out of the way..."

"No," I challenged, arms crossed and standing like a rock.

"I'm trying to be patient with you...get—_OUT_—of the way..."

"Say the three magic words, and maybe I will..." I negotiated, tapping my foot, "Give me just three words, that's all I ask."

"Alright," He conformed, "How about, "I _hate_ you."

My body shut down and I was then clothed in frost. It wasn't the three words he chose that drove me into mortification—that was one of the general phrases in our arguments. It wasn't that, no...it was the word in the middle, the inflection it rung. It was like Justin was Ice-Man and I was The Torch...with a simple brush of breath I was a glacier. Maybe that was why I didn't feel him move around me to leave The Lair.

Here's my question, if I ever snap out of this...

_How did he get so cold....??_

_This was a very emotionally intense chapter; I hope all of my readers enjoyed it. The next chapter is going to be in Justin's P.O.V. and deals with the aftereffects of his altercation with Alex. The theme song pertaining to the chapter is the song "Ice" by LIGHTS. Look it up, along with the video I made on YouTube. Obviously you know what to key in to search for it right? While your there, check out my other videos, whydon'tcha?_

_One question: Do you think Alex and Justin were in character, Considering Justin was acting paranoid and extremely frustrated and angry that his sister is in love with him, and considering we've seen Alex's softer side in the WOWP movie?? Tell me what you think._

_**I NEED AT LEAST 10 COMMENTS TO UPDATE!!!**_

_Later Days,_

_Rio :)_


	8. Justin: Chapter 7: How Shall We Depart?

Justin

"I was not prepared for this; not one bit..."

I rushed through the large, metal freezer door and closed it shut. All I wanted to do was to get gone; maybe even warp into another dimension--my absence wouldn't really be missed--I've been blipped out of existence plenty of times to know that someone could go unaffected.  
That's it! I can easily rip a portal open with a transference spell and move to some home in a small town in London. Haha, maybe I could learn the accent and the phrases!! I should really stop deliberating to myself....

I fast-walked out of the back room into the shop, but screeched to a halt once I caught—in full disbelief, I might add—the crime my brother was now committing. The tenseness came on pretty quickly: my blood rose, heated in my system until I could feel a small vein pulsing through my throat.

He slowly turned to me with wide eyes that were briefly tensed with fear. A thick, juicy prime rib steak sitting atop a hefty, circular plate sat before him on the counter, a fork jabbed into it. By the looks of the pink meat in the center, it was cooked to perfection.  
"MAX!" I yelled, my face blanching out and mouth gaping in horror.  
"Hi...Justin..." He said nervously. Then he flashed a smile, as if he was an innocent puppy.  
"Yeah--that's kind of mine?!" I was referring to the sub he was chowing down on.  
"Well, sorry! It wasn't off limits!" He explained. I took a moment and put my face in my hands, then lowered them.

"Did you even see the sign? It said "THIS IS JUSTIN'S", "OFF-LIMITS"!!" I explained. He took a few seconds for that to compute properly, mumbling off incoherently into space.  
"Oh yeah!!" He snapped his fingers, face lit up with a grin as it struck his memory's scarce capacity. His expression then interrelated into a more sheepish poise, losing its glow as he then made a frown, eyes glancing around nervously. "I sort of...threw that away."  
"Look, it doesn't matter; I'll get dad to make me another one later..." I sighed, circling around the counter to sit at a stool. "But, it's just...I made it as kind of a reward for acing that quiz last week. I wish this family would have some regard for each other once in a while..."  
Max chewed and swallowed another bite. "Well, you know what Dad always says..."  
"What?"  
"What?"  
Max shrugged and took another bite; blatant to how I crossed my arms and rested them over the counter with a depressed huff.  
He then took yet another bite, and then glanced down at me, weirdly. "What's wrong?"  
"Nothing, Max...just...tired. It's been a long day at school. I'm kind of sore."  
"Oh." He replied, then chuckled, "What? You fall down the stairwell again?"  
I shot up with the same angry look. "That was ONE TIME!" I shouted over his laughter.

No enjoyment was taken when I relived that very...detrimental moment at school one day. Don't know how it happened exactly. It wasn't really like I fell the entire way down and knocked myself unconscious...I just...knocked myself into next week—which, considering the drastic hilarity of that moment to the whole school, by next week I would've been luckier to heal from the concussion I had to bear than for them to forget about it.

"Gosh..." I slouched a little in my seat, pouting and throwing small gusts of air out of my lips, cheeks puffed out and gradually deflating. "I wonder what Juliet's doing.... she told me she was busy doing something very important. It's really cruddy since I need her right now..."  
"Oh," Max said, "That reminds me….I think she called…"  
"Really?!" I jumped at this news, a smile spreading across my face, "When?!"  
Max went into a mode of complete thought for a moment. "Uh….I think she called for you….an hour ago…"  
I blanched out again, my eyebrows pressing over my eyelids in frustration. It felt like I missed a heavily-pressed deadline. "What?!"  
"Yeah," He replied, "I think she wanted you to stop by? Haha, I don't see why she'd want that though, Vampires are, like, allergic to moonlight right??"

I frowned at him, got up, and swerved around tables as I made a walk for the door. The Late Night Bite was a mere few steps away from the Sub Station. I would've gotten a jacket on to protect myself from the whipping wind blowing through the cramped street, but I was a little anxious to see my beloved Juliet after such a long disconnection. Well, to her, a separation as long as a day wouldn't have really been much, but in my own head, it was torture without my little vampire. Not only did I feel terrible because of this whole ordeal about Alex's non-mutual affections for me, but it made me feel as if I was cheating, somehow. But all it is is just me being paranoid again. Go figure.

I stepped in through the door behind a couple (my heart lurched) and I continued down the stairway into the shop that was situated to look like a pub; medieval--like a decrepit dungeon. Cobblestone walls in three different colors, wooden tables that looked like they'd been preserved for quite some time, and dangling black chandeliers hung from the ceiling. I approached the counter under all of the commotion. By chance I managed to get over to the counter and avoid a line—everyone was seated and conversing. I looked over to the brunette woman in a black dress that sat behind the counter.

"Hey...Mrs..."  
She gazed up at me and chuckled, amused to see me alive and well.  
I swallowed, "Mrs. Van-Heusen...Is—Is Juliet around?"  
"Yeah, yeah," She told me, "Down the hall and—well, you know where it is..."  
I laughed nervously, agreeing with her, and continued briskly past the counter to a door on the far wall, where I turned face to face with Mr. Van Heusen and his dangerously suspicious eyes of crimson-black.  
"Hey, Mr. Van Heusen," I greeted him informally.  
He studied my stance leisurely, with a doubtful look in his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, "Hmm...Not too scared, are you?"  
"I..."  
"WELL, YOU SHOULD BE!" My girlfriend's father threw his arms out over me, baring his teeth, exclaiming on the instant—much to which I was more surprised than intimidated by.  
"NOT IN THE SHOP! You'll scare the fresh meat!" Mrs. Van Heusen seethed with her sharp fangs, only a few steps away. A blonde haired customer's eyes went a little wide as he overheard her seemingly low-volume comment to her husband. She took air of his presence and offered a quick rebuttal with a cheerful smile. "Oh, it's just a figure of speech..." She humored him. She then turned all the way to face the counter, eyeing the register yet still grasping his order. "Now that'll be Frog Legs...right?"  
The man's eyes rolled up into his head and he fell backward, fainting like a mummified corpse descending into a coffin. The room went silent for a quick moment.

"Well—have fun dying, Russo!" Mr. Van Heusen got in before patting me on the shoulder and walking back over to join his wife.  
I opened the equally decrepit door and ventured inside a room painted dim. A dusty brick hallway lined with torches, burning a bright red along the walls. I continued down it with this thick shade of fear draped over me the entire time. At the farthest end I found a door that led to a room on my right. There was too much darkness to tell whether or not I could step it.

"Juliet?" I called quietly.  
There was this tingle on my arm, like fingers tapping incessantly against my skin. Checking myself over, my eyes fell upon a small black spider crawling on me. I DREADED SPIDERS.  
I desperately tried to smash the thing without minding my feet, obviously unaware of how dangerous that was. Caught off guard, my foot slipped and I tumbled into thin air—and in no way had I braced for impact. I fell for a quick 2 seconds.  
With a thud and a loud grunt, a hard surface collided against my face and I squinted. From the odd pattern of the flooring—it had been linoleum. Right; like I wasn't hurting enough to notice that.

"JUSTIN!" A feminine shout rang in my ears as delicate fingers groped at my arms to pull me up off of the floor.  
"Ow..." I groaned, turning to squint at my vampire girlfriend. "I completely forgot about the "stairs-in-the-wall" bit.  
"Aww, Justin, it's not your fault..." My blonde angel smiled, "It completely slipped my mind—I forgot to bring them out...!" She laughed.  
There was no way that I could stay angry at Juliet for more than a moment. I entangled my arms around her thin figure in a welcoming hug. "It's alright...we can blame the spiders..." I informed her.  
Juliet tore away from me in a second, "Where?! I hate those things!" she announced, observing me for any critters remaining.  
"Me too!" I agreed.

She grinned giddily, taking my hands in hers, rubbing her thumbs over my palms, "Aww, we have more and more in common everyday..."  
"Yeah," I agreed, grinning back, staring into her brown eyes, "Oh, and don't worry..." I looked down to retrieve the black speck from my shirt, "I got him..." I then plucked the dead bug from my thumb and it flew to the floor. Juliet and I shivered a little bit. We noticed immediately that we mirrored each others actions, laughed outwardly and proceeded to pull each other in for yet another loving hug.

Running my hands through her hair, my eyelids fluttered open to a view that had me dwelling in a vomiting feeling deeply embedded into my stomach. This wasn't happening—it...it couldn't be....could it?  
Juliet pulled a way with a smile as I glanced over her shoulder in utter shock, examining the travel bags that she had grouped up in a small little area in the middle of the dark room.  
"What's—Oh...." She realized the reason for my sudden shock and I then stared her over—lament setting into my expression.  
"You're..."

Juliet wore a dejected face, glancing down and pulling away from my hand to approach the seat of her mother's prized, gloss-black grandwood piano. She sat upright, a frown casting over her face. Then she looked at me, passing me a fleeting look that indicated such gloom in her eyes. Examining her next motion was much harder to take in than to believe. With incredulous eyes and a small, gaped mouth—I...I tried to process why she softly patted the other side of the piano bench...

Approaching her was like a slow-motion scene from a movie. My heart pounded, my throat adapted to a drier climate. This was all dreadfully sluggish—yet, much too quick to analyze justly.  
I did as she calmly instructed and took a seat, eyes distant, tensed with a disapproval to cast onto her gentle eyes—her beautiful pink lips. For I knew that reading the words they formed, the pictures they illustrated in my head, would make this so much harder for me to manage. A nervous pulse rocketed into my thighs and I dug my fingers into them—the material of my jeans and waited.

"Justin..." She'd already known why I was doing such a thing, "You're legs are thumping..." Juliet casually layered a gentle touch over my right hand, urged it to slow its friction.  
"I do that, Juliet..." I told her, still staring forward. Well, it happened to be a habit. Was I rightfully admitting that such a fact was true?  
Of course not.  
"Justin..." She began with a bit of pity lining her voice.  
Sometimes I try to act cool, sometimes tough, sometimes laid back. But, in the close act that I'm absolutely, positively sure of myself that the love of my life is making a horrible decision, I hold no masks to my face. For this moment in time, no one, no circumstance could barricade back what I feel inside.  
"I've never seen you look so...alone..." Her voice tensing with disdain. I sighed—realizing how true that seemed to be. She caught what her misintentional comment did to me and I heard her breath hitch at the lowest volume.  
"...I mean..." Then, defeated, she regressed with a sigh, "Fine. I'll come right out with it. I'm moving, Justin..."

I shook my head, finally redirecting my vision to look into the eyes of my one true love. My brain found function and I somehow managed to grab her by the arms. My solemn look burned with intensity. "How Far...? Maybe I can..."  
"It's in Prague, Justin..."  
I scoffed, "Prague?? The Czech Republic? Seriously? Come on, Juliet!"  
Juliet was taken aback by my assumption of how fake I thought she was being. "Come on? Justin, I have family there!"  
Nothing would make me believe her. "Sure, you do! Like whom?"  
"Uhm, the ones who are DEAD?" she answered. The realization that I was in love with someone who was dead attached another that her family stemmed from the same tree. Dead, in this situation, preferably meant alive and kicking--and for a good while, at that. "Hello, when you've been living a million's worth of lives, you move around a lot!!!"  
"Juliet....I'm sorry..." I apologized, "Did your parents make you do this?"  
Juliet looked a bit ashamed after that question set in; she glanced down at her lap. "Yeah....It was decided that I'd go there to stay with my cousins."

What was so horrible about here on Waverly Place? All of this seemed a bit too far-fetched for my taste. The eldest Van-Heusens'—her parents—were they still harboring disgust towards our companionship?  
I looked over to study Juliet by her eyes, trying to placate the situation and separate fact from fiction, "If this is about me dating you still..."  
Juliet jumped up, "It's not about dating you, Justin!" She shouted, jumping from her seat and pacing the room. If anything, our relationship was the absolute only possible explanation for this planned split-up. The other possibility seemed, well... impossible, so I didn't consider preparing to actually say the words.

A part of me was dying to know the reason for this. My feet urged me to stand and I spoke, strolling towards Juliet.  
"Then, what is it, sweetie? Because I'm starting to get this feeling that you're trying to hide some kind of...bridge for me to get over..."  
I sauntered to meet Juliet face to face, staring her down with understanding brimming my voice. Gently, I took her hands in mine.  
"Whatever it may be, love, just tell me." I insisted upon. Juliet didn't budge or falter like I was expecting her to, just a neutral glance up at my face.

"You want to know what this is about, Justin?" She muttered, a heated flame simmered below her tone. Wh—Why was she all of a sudden so...touchy? That was definitely not a side of Juliet I'd taken into account. This girl that I loved had never been one to forward her anger. I was her boyfriend; that made all of the difference.  
My eyes trailed over her but I didn't compute what was taking place. She revolved away from me and made a rushed attempt for an open bag with clothes piled around it. My body was now forged in pre-frost and breathlessly numb.  
"Y-yeah," I got out, "I would like to know what's going on because I obviously am not clueing in."  
"Justin, you know how a tree falls in the forest, but no one takes notice of it?" She asked me, still busy with her packing. Frustration meddled with my head as I took in what she proposed.  
"Yes..."

Her voice interrupted my own, also silencing my thoughts. "Well, in this case, Justin....it's all about that tree. That tree was special, the biggest one in the forest, everyone loved what it had to offer, its shade, its fruit..." I was dumbfounded by her abnormal analogy. She carefully set down the clothes and got to her feet to face me.

Juliet continued, "But then things changed—the forest was dying—it witnessed how—how its surroundings were bleeding out everything that was so beautiful there..." I analyzed her story, trying to find a point of entry to ask a question. My brain grew cloudly—an uncommon thing. Then my eyes sparked with realization as she stared at me. I looked her over and my look of confusion altered into one of pure abhorrence.

_**Incompatibility?**_ What? Apparently I hadn't known this vampire any longer—it was as if she knew nothing about me, or us. About every aspect of our lives were completely conjoined and jumbled up in the same place—much like what's shoved into Max's closet.

"We—we're _anything_ but incompatible, Juliet!" I yelled, spitting darts to the back of her head.  
"Our _lives_, Justin," Juliet snapped back, "They're—they're too different to survive like this!"  
Refusal was my first counter to her words. They were ridiculous. "Insinuating that we're too different to survive in our relationship is a flat out lie. What are you saying—that you don't love me anymore?" A strange pump ricocheted around my heart.

"No, no, no! You're taking this the wrong way!" She yelled back at me.  
I shook my head, "What more can I do? You aren't giving me enough to work with, here..."

"JUSTIN! Why—how do you not understand...?!" He roared miserably, cracks growing in her voice. The very first time witnessing my vampire girlfriend in such a malformed condition—in no place was I accustomed to an onslaught of goose bumps on my skin and her lips quivering with regret.

"I'm pretty winded right about now!" I explained, referring to her plan on leaving me that appeared out of the blue.  
"What I'm saying is...All good things come to a close, "She explained, "It's a cycle I have to live by."  
Truer words had never been spoken, but—although a perfect representation of life and death that was--nothing could prevent me from trying to find a clean way around it. A loophole, an error, anything. Anything within my jurisdiction to maintain one of the most valuable things I could ever have asked for.

"But..." I croaked, swallowing a lump in my throat. "Shouldn't perfection be that one exception to that rule?"  
A quiver-riddled smile casted across her face once I combed a lose strand of her golden hair behind her ear and then a frown restated its place. "I really wish...but in most circumstances...that doesn't always work, baby..."

"Does this concern your vampire secret?" I prodded another option, "If you still believe I wouldn't accept someone so different from me after all of this time we've been together, I don't know how I can convince you to stay..."

Juliet's vision grew pained, fiercely fastening to my own in mere seconds, "If you could only...listen to the words you were saying, Justin..." the way she seemed to stare—scrutinizing, unyielding, frustrated.

"What could I have possibly just let slide off of my lips to sound so...foreign to you?" My voice rose with a subtly irate undertone, "There's nothing unfamiliar about desiring the love of something or someone that you consider you're not fully capable of handling. That kind of love isn't always demeaning, Juliet."

"Justin, the way I live...I phase through walls..." She began, in a tone of self-pity instead of deep sorrow, "But you..." she clenched onto my shoulders, fascination arching over the pain in her restricted stare, "You don't know how lucky you are. You can keep your feet planted while I have no choice but to live with wings strapped to my back...."

A Juliet that was being pulled into two different directions was pretty heart-breaking for me to look at; I almost couldn't bear thinking about it. A Juliet that had made a full, headstrong decision to venture down the road opposite to me—now, that'd been what I would often blink back tears to attempt to erase from my mind.  
Anxiety formed again in my throat and I fought it down. "But...what's a life when you just...settle for the surface?"

Juliet scoffed, "'Settling on the surface' is not having to switch homes or switch schools because you're constantly being watched on a regular basis--" --She took a short pause to sniff and swallow, her voice climbing with grief yet again—"—'Settling on the surface' is when you aren't forever dealing with finding great comfort in something right before things decide to rearrange."

I reluctantly took longer glances at her, my mind overflowing with things I was so desperate to get out.  
"I mean..." Juliet stuttered, attempting to grasp words as fast as lightning, "That's the life you have. It's the life I want to live but am in no shape to try to obtain..."

"What's so special about me, Huh?!" I snapped back. She was coursing such bitter destruction in me, I couldn't take it anymore. "What's so special?! I'm a wizard—yes! But being in a culture where I can't use it outwardly for the common good doesn't really make me feel any better about myself!"

"Justin..." Juliet muttered, "You're special in my eyes...not only subjected to how I feel about you, but...just think. In retrospect, you're the one who has it good, not me...I don't fit..."

Her heart was crying out for the reassurance, a sense of belonging. Maybe that was why the words vanished back at the starting line—the energy behind them was too ecstatic for me to constrict on my own. Maybe my weakness—not the physical kind—wasn't defined enough to run at the same speed with Juliet. Perhaps I was too...obsolete. This might've been the problem with us. We were soul mates—but that was only a half correct statement. Virtually, soul was the key word that represented it. Not even soul, possibly just...love. She'd debate with me whether or not she had a soul. We weren't physically matched. Our origins were somehow similar, yet at a prominent distance.

Well, we can smell each other....that's a plus.  
_Oh, really now—is that so astounding?! What about that time you washed your hair and she could smell it from a mile away?!  
_Uhm—Vampire sense of smell?  
Mom said she could smell it.  
_That's just mom—she never passes up on encouragement or complimenting someone.  
_What about Alex?  
_What about Alex? She doubled over laughing because that happened to be her—SHOOT, SHE SWITCHED THE BOTTLES!  
_

Her face suddenly appeared in my head from that day—Those brown eyes glowing with amusement, those lips curling up to smile. That picture forced my mood's tempo to up into anger, then, as it simmered, to descend a little farther down. My focus diverted back to my vampire girlfriend and how to soothe the stinging situation.  
She was too old; I was too young. She'd seen half the world and all the seven wonders, I'd bet, yet I'd only seen a good three-fourths of New York City and The glimmering, glorious islands of The Caribbean.  
But...what did we have in common?  
_Academics?  
__Favorite foods?  
__Tendencies?  
__Hobbies?  
__Ambitions?_  
Those weren't _genuine_, though...they weren't..._exceptional_. Where in the world was that single characteristic of our relationship that couldn't be overruled or outsized or downsized or anything of the sort between the two of us? I couldn't find it. But that didn't necessarily mean that there wasn't one there. He was just...absent, tardy; I hadn't gotten a good enough grip on _her_ yet.  
An eagle got caught in my turbine; I came crashing down.  
Wait, _Her?_  
A familiar setting beamed into my brain.

* * *

I was headed to Mr. Laritate's office (by request over the intercom, of course) with high hopes that I probably earned another award. Luckily, for me I had no prior knowledge of whatever it could've been so I was bound to be sparkly-eyed and surprised as I stepped into his office.  
To be honest, I wouldn't exactly say I was sparkly-eyed more so than surprised. Oddly enough, Alex was there, but that was only the predictable part of it.  
Never in a million years would I expect to see them playing some western-inspired board game with little cactuses poking out of the board and cowboys riding on horses for game pieces.

_NEVER._  
My gaze grew concerted as I eyed them, trying to figure out whether or not an occasion was set for this kind of thing.  
Alex rolled the dice.  
"1...2...3...4." She counted. "Ooh, looks like I won." She knocked over Mr. Laritate's game piece with her own and chuckled at him. Mr. Laritate was almost blue in the face.  
"That's impossible..." He muttered, nearly breathless, "You lost 3 turns!"  
I opened my mouth to speak and establish my presence but Alex's voice interrupted.  
"Oh, really? Where?" She asked in her getting-smart tone.  
"You lost one here," he pointed, "And that rattle snake you got bitten by caused you to lose two more turns! How did you get ahead of me?!"  
Alex cleared her throat, "I'm...obviously better at this game than you are..."

I coughed loudly, sounding a few words through them.  
"_*cough, cough* _Mr. Russo is here... _*cough, cough*_" I forced out. They both glanced up to see me standing there. Alex's look was uninterested while Mr. Laritate had a smile spread, fixing his tie as he stood up.  
"Ah, Mr, Russo!" Right...it was just like him to try to completely ignore his activity with my sister. "I've lassoed you up here to inform you of something that..."  
"Another award?!" I exclaimed with upmost excitement, then regaining myself to clear my throat, "Ahem....another—nother award, sir?"  
"Yes, Mr. Russo!" A smile couldn't seem to keep from my face, "It's an award, but not necessarily categorized in your neck of the woods..."  
"What?" my eyes widened to a subtle degree—how could it not be me? Why was I even in his office?

"I happened to be digging through my filing cabinets the other day," stated Mr. Laritate, taking a seat and breaking his attention from me or Alex. He tilted over to a cabinet in his polished wooden desk, "I came across something peculiar..." He trailed off, reaching in deeper to pull out an item—a fat manila folder stuffed to the brim with a ruffle of papers, edges poking out from all sides. "Your sister's records..."  
My expression concerted with some kind of confusion, then worry. I glanced over to find Alex staring over at me with surprise in her eyes. Was she suspended again—_**expelled?!**_

"As it turns out, Mr. Russo, your sister—in her feeble three years of attending TriBeCa prep—happens to be the one student to hold the record for the most demerits in the history of this school," He informed me, giving Alex a quick smile. She was rather indifferent towards the bit.  
"So what does that mean? I get a free t-shirt??" She obviously didn't catch the whole conversation.  
I grimaced towards her, "No, Alex, it means YOU won the award—not me!"

"Here you are, Mrs. Russo..." He handed her a metallic gold trophy with an embedded plate over the front, Alex chuckled.  
"_'For Alex Russo, The Greatest Prankster in TriBeCa Prep History'_, Oh, cool. Thanks, Mr. Laritate!" She admired the work, observing it at different angles.  
"It's the least I could do. And it'd better be cool, "muttered Mr. Laritate. He looked away as if to mutter something else, "I lost the deposit on that thing..."  
There was this deep, rippling anger inside of me—in no way was I angry that the award wasn't for me—I'd been let down before and this was just me witnessing the downward turns of this thing we like to call life—but this was still insane. I mean, Alex?! Alex Russo Got an Award?! My sister?! Not purely subjected to that alone, but for committing wrongful acts?! Tyranny should never be rewarded!

"I'm still trying to figure exactly how this pertains to me, Mr. Laritate," I restated with a slight edge of irritation in my voice.  
"Well, I thought you would like to know, Mr. Russo," He answered, "It isn't too often you find your sister being awarded, correct?"  
I sighed, "I guess you're right..."  
Alex laughed, looking over at me, "I guess crime does pay off, huh?" I responded to her words with an angry eye roll and an arm cross, tuning out her snappy comeback.  
"Just to be clear, I only did this in hopes that you wouldn't need to break your own record...." said Mr. Laritate.  
"Fine by me," Said Alex, "I'll always have 'bonehead' here to mess around with at home," passing me a smile.  
_It was that smile that made me wonder in that moment. It was also the genuine quality her voice wrapped around those words—it wasn't an idle threat...it was...a compliment (or at least her version of one). And even though the shock was yet to settle in, I had to smile back._

_

* * *

_

Although that reminisce left a sweet taste in my mouth, it wasn't long before it became bitter and vile on my tongue.  
"_I wish you would just, get out of my head and stay out,_" I muttered quietly to myself. Then my attention inadvertently drew back to Juliet, who was still slumped under a surplus blanket of sadness. Then a familiar feeling of helplessness washed back over my mood.  
_Where was I?  
__Oh, right—obsolete._  
I could be obsolete—but not necessarily down for the count.

There was this gaping hole in my stomach that seemed to be snatched away at this moment. On the verge of combustion, I pulled her arm back over to the piano bench hurriedly and sat her down.  
The way her head sort of hung made my heart sink in my chest and slump to the pit of my stomach. I leaned inward to get a good look at Juliet's face. She refused to talk after I muttered a few words to regain her attention. My mind slid the command and I followed suit—reaching forward to embrace her cheek with my hand—fingers gliding up to caress her cool skin in a subtle touch. Angelic brown eyes turned to me and briefly sparkled with fervor in the second that was allowed for it to be contained.

"Baby," I spoke, "I don't like seeing you like this..."  
My beloved vampire lost her footing right past the threshold. In the instant I blinked, from her eyes—pressed shut almost forcefully-- flowed tears without warning down her beautiful face. An immediate impulse, I took hold of Juliet and wrapped my arms around her.  
"It'll be okay...shhhh, don't cry..." I begged of her softly. I was pretty difficult trying to keep my cool, "You might make...me cry..."  
"No," She tore from my arms to stare forward at me—my thumb halted the traveling tears as I brushed them away. "I wouldn't want that..."  
"Will you—come back?" I stammered with the words as she took a dejected stare down at the floor. Juliet's eyes rose to me and she smiled.  
"I will come back—the pain in me wouldn't subside..." I did truly love her; she was constantly the subject of my fantasies, always finding a way to get into my head.

We leaned closer, touching foreheads, embracing each other with passion.  
"You are the love of my life, Juliet Van Heusen..." I whispered carefully, just brisk enough not to tarnish an ambient silence, "No one shall take your place in my heart the way that you do..."  
I saw a light tint of red on her cheeks. "Leave it open for me, okay?" Juliet joked, smiling. I grinned at her response. She was so cute when we used metaphors. This stain would be much larger once this whole thing came to a close.  
"I'll patch it closed until you decide to return," I informed her.  
She laughed, "Don't hurt yourself, baby, I won't be far..."  
"I'll send you distant mind hugs from afar," I proposed, smiling, "So, whenever you're down in the dumps, just imagine my arms around you and I'll be there, alright?"  
She nodded, approvingly.

"Mhmm," There were tears resurfacing, I was so quick to start worrying until I saw the smile so neatly spread. My concern drained momentarily. "I'd like that--I'd _love_ that."

The room grew near silent as I wiped her tears with my thumb again, as if it was a routine practice. It was only mere seconds later that I did what I felt I came there for in the first place.

My lips brushed up against Juliet's in a slow, genuine kiss. She pressed her lips back against mine with such need, such desire. It was my natural instinct--our natural instinct--for us to immediately pull away, for the sense of danger was always much closer than we imagined. Let's just say.

_Danger was merely child's play for this moment. _

I had no care in the world for how wrongly my instinct was feeling against this intimacy--this was a now-or-never thing, it seemed, anyhow.  
Juliet pressed her body up against mine, standing up a little on her tip-toes to give more of herself into the kiss. My senses had died in entrancement in the barrage of kisses so quickly. I couldn't seem to feel her arms so tentatively wrap around my neck and tie around it like a knot. That wasn't the only knot in this event. My stomach was knotted up and doing backflips and frontflips and somersaults.

The caressing of her lips picked up, but I had every intention to keep my lips level with them. My hands then found a way down to Juliet's hip, then her behind and I gripped it with such fervor. A groan gurgled down her throat and I recieved it successfully by hoisting her up to wrap her slender legs around my waist. My vampire's head was now a bit above mine, kissing downward, giving my lips a heated service I couldn't break away from.  
I broke from the kiss and smoothly transitioned down to her throat with kisses. Juliet leaned her head backwards to allow me better access. My lips dug into her neck with quick, teasing nibbles, of which quiet groans touched my eardrums.

With ease, now slowly brushing my tongue against her skin, i quickly found my back to the piano and turned about to sit her atop it. No kiss was broken in that transition. Our lips were still at a medium pace, our motions growing wilder yet, tongues dancing erratically inside our mouths.

This was where my deliberation it's respective place in my brain and flew south.

Juliet didn't refuse me as I carefully set her back down on the top of the grand piano, still continuing to kiss her as frequently as possible. My lips unlocked from hers and I worked down, kissing and nibbling her jaw line, her throat, her collarbone. There was a soft thud as Juliet's head fell to meet the surface of the piano and she groaned my name through a sensual stutter.

"J-Ju-Justin..."

I still wanted more though--well, the Justin you see here did. My mind was much too benumbed with this whole fix I could think rationally.

I calmly worked Juliet's shirt up and kissed her flesh lightly down it tentatively.

"Justin..." that was more a half groan, not as entranced as I hoped. My hands gripped onto her skirt and glided my hands down it.

"Justin." More urgently she called my name. Did I mention I was deaf?

I set my hands on her thighs and trailed up in a slow manner. This was when the entire mood changed. A breath hitched, then fingers clasped onto my hair in an irate fashion. My head was yanked upward from her stomach in a livid pull.

"JUSTIN--_STOP!_" I was instantly afraid of my girlfriend at that point. Her eyes beamed a little brighter than usual, staring me down. The heat of the situation still had her breathing. Two long vampire fangs were protracted behind her lips.

In a shuffle, I rose from Juliet in a second, stuttering and blubber out apologies.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"Justin...it's okay..." She forgave me, picking herself up from the piano to stand in front of me, faltering a little.

"No--it's not." I insisted, "I violated you, Juliet and I'll never do it again."

She sighed, "When the time comes, Justin," She began, walking closer to me for a hug, wrapping her arms around me, "Perhaps it won't be violation..."

I held her for a moment, befuddled until it processed. "Sure." I said back.

"You should--go, I got to finish packing for the trip." She asked of me. I complied without defiance, yet...as you can already imagine, leaving here was the hardest thing I could possibly do.

"Never stop thinking about me, Justin." She demanded of me with such passion in her voice. There was a deeply sad vibe behind her sentiment--The bridge I was standing was guaranteed to break soon.

There was a pause at the foot of the stairs out of her dungeon-like home. "Just because you're leaving here, doesn't mean you'll ever leave my head," I told her, "You're way too permanent up there."

She smiled, I could see tears brimming yet again, "I'll call you once I get there, okay?"

"Bye, Juliet..." I started up the stairs, taking casual glances back at her as she watched from below. My heart deflated all of a sudden, once I hit the door. Nothing made me cringe more than the somehow distant sound of a beautiful girl crying.

* * *

Leaving that place was like leaving a comfort zone, or unguarding a precious keep that I'd been attuned to guarding for so long. In my own terms, I could never see myself without her—and that's when I forced myself to stifle back tears to denounce the thought me being a literal wreck.

Although my home was only a few steps away, I dreaded the fact that I had no choice but to go back to it. I dreaded having to see Alex again and to have to take the awkward tension that we would share near one another. In a clash of wit, when one of us would try to conquer over the other, how would things turn out? It stung to think that she could try to make a move on me—stung me even more considering that we were in a possible danger zone whenever we didn't happen to be alone.

There was a way to alienate myself from Alex—and it was perfect for drawing out my inept anger on.

I pulled out my blackberry and set my fingers on the screen, beginning to type the words that resembled how I felt very clearly.

* * *

**Hey, you guys!! I finally updated! This scene took a GOOD AMOUNT OF TIME to finish so please R&R!! I'll be updating this with Alex's POV in the next chapter soon!! Do you think Justin was in character in this chapter, too--despite the near sex scene? See you later!**

_**BTW, PLEASE SUBSCRIBE TO MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL ---- RIOICHI2 ----- I'm uploading an Epic 10-Minute JALEX/DALENA + JEMI/JOENNY (Joe/Sonny) TELEPHONE video! There's the Prologue for it, the Actual Video, and then an Epilogue after—three separate videos! I know you guys will like it if you check that out. I'll update everyone on it on the JALEX forum on FF. **_

**Peace. **

**Rio. ;D  
**


	9. Alex: Chapter 8: My Heart Sheared Open

**Alex**

"My Heart Was Split into Bloody Halves..."

Most of my night was consumed with the grief of even owning my stupid mouth and asking myself _why in the world_ I was actually anticipating letting Justin in on the secret of the century. He had left me in The Lair, and I settled—well, settled isn't the appropriate word to use...I was anything but settled when I was shedding all of those tears, curled up in the little ball on the couch. Let's try..._remained_. I _remained_ there. Yeah, that's it.

And not until now did I consider this, but I'm seriously surprised, nobody came looking for me for those twenty minutes or so, or came snooping into The Lair to check for anything broken, anything missing, or out of place. As for my happiness, it had left almost entirely. Although it was pretty faint, and, like, basically invisible to the naked eye, I was kind of happy that no one would see me in such deep sorrow.

_For anyone else to compute, that would be the only thing is The Lair that happened to be out of place._

Ugh, life was so blah now. I hated it.

When dinner was ready, I had no liking for reaching over my family's plates without their permission to grab anything I need to sprinkle over my pork chop or my other food last night. The table went all traumatic on me once I actually started eating my vegetables; I ignored my parents' and Max's blatant disregard. It wasn't blatant, really...they didn't know. I would just rather it be that way, you know? I tried to make it believable that they were aware and that I wasn't in the right mood to talk outright about the situation. Or, at least, the _true_ situation.

_It's so odd but...this new phase I was in—this sad, depressed me, I don't think she would've gotten the words out to articulate a good enough lie._

I was so transfixed on Justin's seat that was always filled this time of the evening. How he'd be sitting there picking through his food and casually glancing over at me to grin or to look at me like there was something on my face that disturbed him. I was also

Before my mother or father decided to ask what's up, I went took my food and asked to eat upstairs. My mother nodded in this slow, timid fashion.

"Sure, honey," She agreed, with this confused look on her face. She knew something was up; I could very much tell. I got up from my seat and left my parents and my baby brother alone, to finish their meal without my dark cloud hovering over the table.

Trudging upstairs, I progressed to my room, set the plate down on my desk and took a breather on my bed to think about how everything went so horribly wrong. I hadn't expected Justin to like me back—but to accept me. He was the one that made everything right, and now, since he's had such a harsh and warning less encounter with someone he loved saying such taboo things, he—couldn't see himself to try. It hurt me to imagine us being very separate, very stranger-like to one another for the rest of our lives.

The tears forced themselves out with every red-tinted, blood-engorged thought that was implanted firmly in my brain.

Maybe it was just insanity—because I had this thought.

Are you mad, girl? You seriously are going to degrade yourself this way? No!

Never in my entire life, did I have such a greedy, undying want to slit my wrists. To cut myself.

I sat up in my bed, reluctant and realizing. Such a quick realization, too. Surely the outcome would be quick and—you know, subtly painless, right? Only for just a second's time and the pain would subside back into the images i kept projecting, correct?

No, Not correct!

My head tilted to the dinner plate sitting atop my desk, my mom's dinner still sitting neatly across it. Two objects caught my eye, but only one seemed to look like a tall glass of water on a hot summer's day. There was the fork...and there was the _knife_.

A lump developed in my throat and I forced it down—it was Justin's doing that the scars were so evident; he left them so deeply on my subconscious I was turning loony.

The reach for the knife was half-hesitant for a least a quick instant before I was completely sure that I wanted to go through with it. The pain would feel good—_no, scratch that_—consider it the very opposite of pain—think of it as blunt. _Incising, yes_...but also blunt. Blunt and harmless.

Tremoring over the blade were my fingers, red-hot blood pulsing at the end of my fingertips. Then a swift occurrence broke my frail fear in half.

_**Whirr!—Whirr!—Whirr!**_

Another tremoring-my cell phone shaking on vibrate. I snapped out of it and reached for the phone with bated breath; hoping my brother was on the other line having a near spasm attack as if he was dying to apologize. My eyelids glanced shut while I accepted the call and put the phone to my ear to speak.

"H-Hello...?" I muttered shakily.

"Hi, Alex," That definitely wasn't the anxious tone I'd think Justin would be rambling on in. In fact, that wasn't even remotely close. The mood was very neutral, neither happy nor gloomy. The tone, however...how I would distinguish it, was that...?

_I know that New Jersey-bound accent anywhere!_

"Dean?" Why did I have to sound so..._uninterested_ in finding the one who was, no doubt, the absolute last person on earth I'd think to speak to? I kind of figured that Dean would've still called me, "Russo", like he'd been doing habitually for quite sometime throughout our relationship. Perhaps, he...missed me.

"Yeah," He chuckled, "It's me..."

I exhaled a little, finally registering that it was actually him. "Oh—well, wow, It's been—forever—I..." The line went quiet as I had to clear my throat and sniff out the stifling depression and sorrow I was implanted in.

"You O.K?" He asked through the phone, nonchalantly concerned, "You sound like you've been crying, Russo..."

"No..." The crack in my voice revealed more faults in that word than I could've imagined.

"If you don't want to talk about it; it's fine," He insisted. A smile, although small, finally crossed my face today after all of that tension between me and Justin went down. Dean's little concern and care wasn't much one had to handle or hold onto, but it was something. So surreal how we'd been separated for such an extensive length of time and he still had the nerve to call me up.

_Sounds a little iffy, don't you think?_

Ugh, you sound like Harper.

_Just sayin'..._

You _still_ sound like her.

"Dean," I began, confused, "Why did you call me in the first place? I sort of figured that you lost my number by this point."

He laughed, "It was...sitting in my phone so I just...called..."

Such a powerful giggle burst out of my mouth without my permission as I spoke into the phone.

Dean responded with his own laugh. "What?"

"Dean, I..." A giggle sounded between a few syllables, a bit quieter as of now, "You know I can tell when you're smirking behind the phone...what is it?"

Dean chuckled lowly. "You know me too well, Russo..." His low voice spoke, "Ok, it's great news!"

At that moment, my mind couldn't properly place a time where Dean had sounded so excited. Well, not without starvingly doing so. The conflictions with Justin were nothing but a lack of sustenance for me. It made me scoff to think of what exactly had Dean all bundled up in a big, ol' knot of happy. I was actually willing to bet it had something to do with that car of his he'd been working on before we got out of touch.

"If it's about that sports car you were tinkering at before we broke up, then, I'm happy for you!" I congratulated him.

"Oh, that?" He asked, "No...but, thanks, anyway. It's about you—I'm going back to TriBeCa this year..."

It felt like a sizzling sensation filled my body to the brim—perhaps I was blushing at a crucial degree because of the overwhelming surprise—and seemed as if sparks spurt from my brain like a psycho robot gone haywire. Any other girl would piss and groan secretly about how they had to deal with their ex appearing back into the picture again: coming onto you, trying to set up a date, throwing out ridiculous gifts or compliments—_psh, NO_, I wasn't going to have that—but I was simply having the hardest time understanding how fast all of this was happening. It was so..._amalgamated_...to me ("Justin" word—Ugh, PLEASE kill me).

"OH! Well, then! That's—That's such a—an unexpected surprise!" I said, "If I knew any better I'd have got confetti! Whoo...!" I hurrahed with a nervous laugh following.

_Ok, could you, like, tone it down a bit? You sound a little TOO jumpy. And did you catch that? _

_Dean:_ _"It's about you-"_

_I mean, seriously—it's your school he's talking about but can't you help feeling it has this...I don't know—deeper meaning? As if he's hinting at something?_

Paranoia has such a tight constriction around my mind it's not even funny. I'm serious...

I waited for the reply, setting my phone down on my nightstand to switch the call to the speaker. Pushing my dinner plate down to the far end of the nightstand quickly, a shudder tingled through me with the thought of going through with such madness.

Dean laughed, then I felt the mood lessen once more. "You know I really miss you, right?"

Curling up onto the top of my sheets, resting my head on the pillow, I couldn't help but grin a little at the sentimental quality in his words when he said that.

"To be honest, Dean," I started, staring over at the phone's screen in my iHome, running my fingers over the fabric of my covers, "...I figured I was the last thing on your mind..."

Justin's expression of anger appeared in my mind. It was at the focal point in my head, on the horizon—the center. I broke away with such weak conviction.

"That's a lie, Lexi..." I laughed, shutting my eyes and recalling several instances where he called me "Lexi". "I've been thinking about you day in and day out...every now and again, I do..."

A frown reinstated its home on my face. This was close to the regret you usually feel when you break someone's heart.

The lamentation flushed out as a small _pop!_ sound made its way through and broke the mood before pulling it back down. A shiny blue box appeared on the screen with a name in bolded white and the message it held following that. I dashed up to stare at the screen and I examined the message over with bated breath. My heart strings were driven mad once I caught eye of the sender's name.

**JUSTIN**

Dear Alex,

Or Should I call you conflicted stranger? This is your BROTHER sending you this message if you weren't already aware. I'd say we would need to talk face-to-face- but my mentality has been so corrupted right now that...

Body clenching at my muscles, I ached to discover what was written next for me to see. Without a doubt, Justin would leave it forever dwelling at the forefront of all of my thoughts. A few whimpers escaped me and the pain began to re-emerge like the moon through a covering of trees.

Apparently, the thought of the moon arching over the earth was the best thing to compare the intangible effects of what Justin was doing to me—what he was breaking in me. Because, well...

_He'd always have this over me._

"Could you just..._**leave me alone?"**_ I shouted in a desperate attempt to get him out of my mind. Crying isn't the "Alex Russo" way, but I was doing it too frequently. Push _had_ to come to shove and—

"Fine..." A voice spoke blankly. My eyes were beckoned open by the touch of reality—by the throbbing being multiplied and struck down to the very pit of my stomach.

"...If you don't want to tell me what's going on—I'll leave you to it to get yourself together." Dean proposed.

"Dean, I'm sorry! That wasn't directed towards you!" Hopefully I could persuade him to forgive my outburst.

He grunted behind the receiving end. "Then, who were you talkin' to, Alex? What's going on?"

The words came rushing up my throat and maneuvering along my tongue but I swallowed them. You'd think I'd want to control my mouth anyway.

It makes matters worse.

It breaks bonds.

It gives me _hell._

Explanations formed stutters. "I can't—I can't tell you what's going on—I can't explain! You wouldn't understand!"

"And why not?" He snapped back.

"Because you don't get me!" I then countered.

The line went silent for only a moment before I heard the very low sound of a breath being taken. "Okay, then, Alex...if that's what you see and what you really think about us now then I guess I shoulda erased your number while I had the chance to."

I grunted at the thought of me being oblivious to Dean actually closing the door on our relationship forever. Being caught up has its ways of shaving off loose ends.

"Dean, please..." I begged of him, "Don't talk like this...you've never—never talked like this before and I'm beginning to..."

"You're beginning to get tired of my voice, is that it? If you really don't want to talk to me, just say it. What do we have now that's so spoiled and bad that you seem so...tired of me?"

Several thoughts were scratching against the inside of my skull, aiming to knock out my indecisiveness and knock some sense into me. But still, I waited, breathing, scanning my boxes of clutter for something that would make this okay. They were filled with such a downer—it was like all I could see was two halves in this room. Half of the room was cluttered with pictures of me and Justin like _as_ we were. But the corresponding half was just empty...with broken, empty frames. Was he that _dominative_ in my head?

"I'm not tired of your voice, Dean...I'm just...tired, in general. Can I..." I stifled a few piteous sobs on my end of the line, "Can I just—talk to you at school...?"

_When I'm not so vulnerable?_

"Sure..." He responded in a dejected tone.

"Dean..." I called to him before his finger would tap the end button.

"Mhm..?"

A gentle smile weaved its way across my face. "I—I can't wait to see you again—believe it or not."

"Neither can I..." Dean agreed softly, with the sameness of mind.

The line went dead, and the awestricken agony resurfaced in little to no time or effort as I tried to figure out just what Justin was saying. I read further.

_...I can't even begin to speculate on our previous altercation today. But I will say this: _

_._

_Don't approach when I'm in a good mood; don't approach me in a bad mood. __**I want nothing to do with you.**__ If you should ever come up to me and greet me in the morning, prepare to be justly declined._

A string in my heart bended and snapped with his first demand.

_What a bitch._

I furthered my reading as if it were the most intense book I've ever read—you know, the ones that _don't_ have a movie...

_**I can only wish for our relationship to diminish back to what it once was.**__ Exchange __**no eye contact**__—__**don't even look at me**__ when I cross the room or if I should approach you. __**Forget my face; forget everything about me until I'm the last thing on your mind. Let us neither exchange conversation.**__ If ever a circumstance should arise that you do need to address me as something, call me what you would usually call me, even a bad name or two if that would help. __**I will continue to blatantly ignore you.**_

_As far as I'm concerned, __**I'm not your brother, nor do I want you to be my sister.**__**Ironically**__, it would seem __**this is what you'd like**__—__**to be unrelated so you could make your sick fantasy a reality.**__**I want nothing to do with you. **_

_**Never in my life have I felt especially heated**__ towards someone like this, Alex. And I'd never think to be especially __**deeply**__**disgusted**__ and __**absolutely**__**abhorrent**__ towards my own sister for something so __**taboo**__. __**Do me a huge favor and acquire a taste for seclusion**__, because __**it seems as if that's all you're going to be feeling until you get over me**__. You're __**defective and flawed**__, and I'm __**quarantining **__you._

_**Good Riddance**__._

_**Justin**_

Every point in his argument was jagged and razor-sharp, more so directed towards me with an intention to maim me. He didn't hold back anything—he wasn't nary at a loss for words, wasn't so transfixed in his fiery emotions that he became too flustered. All of his grief was positioned so outwardly that the tears finally gushed out. It was no surprise—no surprise at all.

_**I can only wish for our relationship to diminish back to what it once was. No eye contact**__—__**don't even look at me! Forget my face; forget everything about me until I'm the last thing on your mind. Let us neither exchange conversation. I will continue to blatantly ignore you. I'm not your brother, nor do I want you to be my sister.**__**Ironically**__, __**this is what you'd like**__—__**to be unrelated so you could make your sick fantasy a reality.**__**I want nothing to do with you. Never in my life have I felt especially heated, deeply**__**disgusted and absolutely**__**abhorrent towards you—this taboo. Do me a huge favor and acquire a taste for seclusion; it seems as if that's all you're going to be feeling until you get over me**__.__** You're defective and flawed, and im quarantining you. Good Riddance**__._

_**Justin**_

_Since when was I a psychiatric patient for him to manipulate?_

You could've just said, 'I don't love you'.

_My Heart Was Split into Bloody Halves when i read the first sentence...so it wasn't like I hadn't been waiting for that one._


	10. Justin: Chapter 9: The Collapse

Justin

I returned home at a decent hour, visiting Zeke prior, filling him in on the evening that was responsible for the utter ruining of my life. Undoubtedly my parents were still awake, lounging around the counters in the kitchen to welcome me with fair embrace: a motherly smooch on the cheek from mom and my father's cheery grin. It was as If I was treading between two rows of thin oaks, quaint sounds lying down adjacent to the silence, unnoticeable. The trees were breathing; they just didn't earn my recognition or my attention.

In an unfocused haze I nearly stomped through the living room with my head down. Then a disruption interceded.

"Justin, sweetie," My mom approached delicately, "You've been gone for hours…"

My dad swiveled around on the stool to observe me, "Yeah, you're a part of this family—you could've called: those dishes don't clean themselves…" He stated ignorantly.

Normally, I'd smirk at my dad's ridiculous humor. During this moment it appeared more like a nuisance, repelling off of the shroud of disparity I enclosed myself under.

My face posed an expectant glare—my mother quickly whacked him on the arm in a disciplinary manner.

He shrugged with nonchalance, stating the obvious, "What? They aren't!" Mom shook her head slowly, readjusting her focus on my situation.

"Your father's right…" My mother agreed, cleaning out one of the glasses with a cloth. He nodded in response, a smug, satisfied look upon his face. "…at least about the first part. It isn't very much like you to ever really choose to be irresponsible…"

I immediately countered that assumption, "Mom, you know I don't choose to be…" My slump indicated my irritability, separately from my nearly childish whine.

She nodded, understanding her fault, "I know—I know you're not perfect, Justin…just, consider us next time—_like you always do_—okay, sweetie?" The words she incorporated into that request wore a sparingly forged reminder—a comfort that I was still on the right track. The sentiment failed to make an impression; my heart was plunged a little too far down—this misalignment Juliet formed was shorting my sense of emotion—I only recognized sorrow.

"Ok, mom…" I gave her confirmation with a hefty sigh, transitioning towards the stair case.

"Wait, Justin, aren't you hungry?" In retrospect, I'd have nodded yes, but I actually was tolerable of being gutless and empty. "Wouldn't you like some of my 'Chicken Enchilada'?" She raised the pan for my viewing.

Suddenly my lethargy condensed into a mist. "Mom, I would _much_ rather starve…."

My words were like a shameful slap across the face; I could read the surprise and astonishment in her eyes at a glance at once.

"Excuse me, Justin?" she pardoned, "If you weren't in the mood for any dinner, you could've just said so..."

Contempt filled my heart to the brim at once; the apology was forming within me under waves of static.

"I'm sorry, mother, it's just—I'm not…not well right now…" The explanation wafted out with cracks embedded. A certain portion of my mind was spent swirling colors to project the images I was so desperate to be free of. Blurring off of the scene, I turned to the steps to get to my room.

Each stair was a burden; thoughts weighing down on my shoulders made simple movement more like an overwhelming stress. Getting to the door was a laborious drag—my vampire left imaginary shackles clasped around my ankles.

Just envisioning the world around me without her again—the pain of being alone—it stripped me dry of all invulnerability, if I had any left in me.

Soundless, tears scuttled down my cheeks in a deplorable fashion. Staring into the void that gripped me was my only option: the mere memories returned in a nostalgic shower. Sitting, I curled up, crouched down, tears dabbing the thighs of my jeans.

What wasn't clear to me was: _**why me?**_ Had there been something I'd done to justify myself this pain? No, there hadn't. Throughout my life I'd always pictured myself happy—and I as I'd matured, happiness seemed more inept in my own mentality. But I still kept some kind of love inside me, a generosity there. Didn't I deserve something to latch onto because of that?

_Karma was a swift and cruel mistress; nothing would allow me to remotely fathom or understand how destruction could equal to satisfaction._

Distant feet grew closer until a form moved into the room slowly, a hand lightly tapping my door open. My eyes trailed up to my mother, she stepped forward slowly, reading the situation through visuals. My glossy black eyes and cheeks smeared with tears were like a storm in the distance approaching a plain…it was inevitable to strike.

"Justin…" She began.

"She left, mom…" Juliet's eyes ran sparks through my head, they're presence stinging. "She's—she's gone…"

Mom wasted no time in offering me consolation, sitting down beside me to rub her palm along my back. Her eyes were blotched with sympathy, a smooth brown.

"Things like this happen, Justin," she stated, "Not everything works out the way that you wish…"

She seemed to destroy the void—the floodgate opening through my eyes, through my heart. "But it isn't _fair_! Its not. Why is it that I always seem to find love in something only to have it slip away from me….?"

Mom shook her head in a timid fashion, denying my words without declaring it, "Often times whenever you aren't meant to be with someone, Justin, you'll only be lead to believe that they later were never meant to be yours in the first place…"

"But, I…" I let out a huff of resignation, letting out a sigh.

"Just….just look at the facts, son," she started to list them, "Things didn't work out with you and that centaur girl, or that "London Tipton"—" –she scoffed after the heiresses name—"That was definitely a shot in the dark, by the way…"

I shook my head, muttering, "You're telling me…"

The fact that I'd posed as a doctor was rapidly driven to the back of my mind, ensuring that it'd never touch my lips.

She continued her rant, "…and there was that werewolf girl you met from 'Wizface', "Isabella"…that was a nightmare."

I responded with a shrug, somewhat agreeing, "Yeah, and she was one among many…"

Mom nodded, "Right, see? You're keeping your op—_hold on a second; _Justin, _please _tell me you canceled that account!" She pleaded in a knowing tone, just as she did with any other argument concerning social networking in the wizard world.

A resigned huff eased out, "Yes, mom…I promise you that I canceled it."

My 'Wizface' page was indeed deleted, but in the sense of a technicality, I created another one following the incident she'd found me logged on and forced me to rid of my addiction. It'd been weeks since I accessed the new page—my addiction was basically nonexistent.

"Good," she smiled, ebullient and pleased, "You know, this breakdown you've encountered reminds me of Alex's rut with Dean…"

The train smacked against me with that slight incorporation of my baby sister's name. Arms trembling, all things she provided for my brain to nibble on: the anger, the frustration, the confusion…the tenseness of a rivalry, all dashed back like a returning gust of wind. My reaction was unknown to mom, of course.

"Wh-What about it…?" I dared ask.

She sighed, "It was an unfamiliar sight, she was on the verge of tears but not quite there. I mean, she talked about how she thought he was perfect for her. All that I could tell her is what I've just told you: there will be many, _many_ more."

On that list of "_many mores_" I was close to the top priority. Such a thought scared me. Mason's predicament was very much just like mine-both being in love with a vampire, the _same one_, at that. His instinctual overdrive equaled my pose concerning tradition and newfound phobia with taboo. Tonight a metamorphosis had taken place: I'd finally looked down upon it. Wherever she'd been-_in her room I'd bet_—she was dreading in the same pool of discrepancy I was in. But I had to think:

_Rejection is sometimes so much harder than you presume._

"But do you understand?" She concluded, adding with wit "…because this is beginning to draw back like some big lecture…"

I nodded accordingly; she rose from the bed with a light sigh.

"Ok," she accepted my mild response, "I'll give you time alone to let it sink in…"

Her exit fell quiet upon my ears; all I heard might've been her heels growing fainter. Didn't process it though, of course…the void re-engulfed my focus as I took it all in. Decided to stand about a minute later—eventually pacing the room, miming words of reassurance to myself. Encircling the space, amidst my mental rehab, the hallway floor moaned.

The first thought that touched my head fought a balance between to of my emotions—hatred was the victor.

My bedroom door made a thump on the opposite side and it slowly opened wider. I was more than aware of the presence—it was just…witnessing it in its certain state wasn't something I was prepared to do.

A low, delicately chilling mutter lined my ears softly, "So I'm not your sister, am I?" it spoke to my back.

An Immediate action, I groped up the wizard manuals on my side dresser and moved towards the shelves to archive them back in order with the numerous other volumes. "So you got the text did you? Well done."

"_Shut up!_" She snapped, loud enough to provoke mom's return or dad's excuse to cut in for once. Her voice then deteriorated back into a chilly quality, precariously perched near the showering of a blubbery cry. Anger shook her following statement in a plead. "_You can't—disown me, Justin, you CANNOT!_"

Alex's possibly murky brown eyes, were glued to the back of my head, I presumed. They induced a minor headache that was aching into creation. The awkward elephant was knocking at my noggin. Yet, I remained silent.

Hands trained and repetitive, I logged the books away by the alphabet, not a word spoken.

"The cold shoulder, huh?" She prodded, "I've given that before. Answer me this:_ Where's your spine in all of this?_"

That insult weaved its way in but I happened to avoid its intention narrowly—it hit, just not a harsh impact.

_I have a spine—or else I'd not be living. Your spine is involved with the actions with your brain cord, and—_

_She meant literally, genius!_

She chuckled mockingly, sadness still tensing her voice, "Oh, wait, allow me to rephrase—you definitely _have_ no spine_—that's right._"

The words pierced more anger, oddly. My brain was full of witty comebacks but dishing them out now seemed like reading blurred scribbling.

She continued still. "_And not to mention you lack a heart too…? Kind of two-faced, if you asked me_."

My fingernails skidded off of the rough material binding the books. "No, because, see, that's where you're definitely wrong—you obviously have absolutely no idea what you just said…."

Alex, arms crossed, gave me a wily smirk along with piercing eyes. She was apparently rising past her heartbreak for the moment being.

"You think I'm not aware of the display you put on for mom in here?" She stated knowingly, stepping an inch closer, "Or how you're just _starving_ for attention?"

"_Wh-what?"_ I barely spoke.

Her responding scoff riddled nearly every fiber of my being. It was as if she was staring straight through a giant tear in my stomach. She wasn't acknowledging the pumping, burning, bleeding organ showing through my chest. Its secretion showing in the form of my insecureness was as evident and obvious as Alex was at trying to put me on self-destruct.

"_How dare you!_" I objected, "Juliet _actually_ left me!" a subconscious trail of tears crept down my face, "She's going to some _godforsaken _country and you have _the nerve _to tell me that my behavior exhibits that of _yours_!"

Alex's eyes moved into different directions as if she couldn't look at me. Taking on a gentler, open façade.

"M-Maybe we can get you through this, big bro…" She eased those words out as I turned back to my tedious work of alphabetizing my books. A Hot fume emerged more anger.

I tensed out a word quickly without recognizing it. "Bullshit."

She huffed predictably, "Oh, is it?"

"YES!" I exploded, dashing around to meet her body near mine, "I KNOW YOU'RE NOT LIKE THAT! JUST ADMIT IT, ALEX! JUST ADMIT HOW YOU'RE THRILLED THAT SHE'S GONE!"

"Thrilled?" She responded, "Try, 'taken aback'. Hurt."

"What did Juliet ever mean to you but a girl who found your brother attractive?" I snapped back.

She sighed, "Up until now, I found her as my friend! A very good friend—I see that she's perfect for you! And..."

The sincerity spilling from her mouth—those meaningful words, seemed real enough to take into account as more of an apology that an explanation. Alex's apologetic tone showed no signs of disrespect or a smart-mouthed attitude lying hidden somewhere. I stood immobile, my ears tuned in.

"…Knowing that I'll never have you or hold you like the way that she did I always knew that…she had a—a great taste in guys…" A few tears blinked from her eyes, I swallowed the image. "And that she chose one that was perfect in his own personal light…"

The water settled into her big brown eyes; they shown like a brilliant, near-orange crystal against my own. A huff escaped—I'd never meant to cause severe emotional harm to Alex, but…this contract—the metaphorical one I instated, had a hold over our relationship now. What was I supposed to do? With us being around an exceedingly expressive pull around each other it was hard not to observe. Especially when you see that shade of brown that's almost…_puppy-like_. Puppy-like, yet not the least bit deceptive. A genuine variety of puppy-like, I suppose.

My defenses dropped, descended—I tried approaching the conflict with a little realism. I've invested enough trust and faith in my baby sister to know that there was some good in her. I'm pretty sure that my letter-although not in the form of being written on physical paper-left some gashes on Alex that wouldn't cease bleeding. You officially render yourself loathsome and despicable when you realize you're deliberately hurting someone.

A smile graced my features, "Its—it's remarkable how you still seem to be so…positive about me exiling you…"

She laughed quietly, "Pushing me out of your own court doesn't necessarily mean I'm out of the castle…"

That seemed to draw two pictures in my head_: "Hey, I'm still your sis!"_ and _"Hey, my persistence and undying confidence is going to make this happen!"_

Befuddlement filled the blankness in my head for the moment, then I regained stable consciousness out of my thoughts as a few fingers entangled around mine. Senses reactant as a single heartbeat I took note of the contact and froze down at my feet.

"We can get through this…" Her brown eyes drew to mine and restrained a hold, "Just _me and you_, Justin…I can heal your _heart…" _The minimal size of her palm cupped around the thunder resonating from my struggling heart—chains strangled me in a stationary position.

A raspy croak left my mouth.

_Is she unaware of how desperately it's pounding?_

Behind my shut lids I imagined a life filled with Alex, with intimacy—a joy reverberating from her. Along with this was a wholesome bliss, her infatuation forever present and irrelevant to everything around her. But, I—nurturing her finally, noticed the humiliation, the sheer madness of it all. How she consumed only a part of my affection left more room for my focus to attach to the faces around us.

Those faces, those husks of the populous announcement of humanity, utterly terrified me with their indifference, staring me down with stern impracticality.

_And I couldn't stand under her veil without sensing eyes, sensing faces._

She was invading every nook and cranny of my insides, flushing through the streams my emotions ran—the separate streams that hadn't yet ran dry.

She was draining me of life, the pressure setting in…

_Crushing._

_Pounding._

Hands lovingly running up my arms had me betwixt the self-proclaimed sinister prose of my imagination and reality.

"There's nothing…" I got out. "That you could do…to make this better for me…"

Alex seemed rather surprised that I'd spoken after so long. "Wh-what?"

"There is absolutely _nothing _that you can do for me but _get out…_" I spoke shakily, nearly without recognition.

The broken-hearted chimes previously brimming Alex's tone started to re-incline in her voice. "What're you talking about, you can't just…There has to be a way…"

_The voices my mind made up were a furious implosion. Layered, echoing, furious. Shouts and reminders of the apparatus of religion and general morals came bombarding my eardrums._

_I could not handle my morals being shirked—I was __**suffocating.**_

"There is NO WAY!" I shouted, staring her down.

Alex said nothing at first, taking in the hurt that I was sure her body was a little used to. Tears brimming her eyelids, nodding in a forced agreement, she backed away to the door.

"This is always gonna be how it is, huh?" She got out in a small croak, "War is not the answer."

What was this coming to? My soul was pulling to Alex's room for the rest of the night. Pulling and pulling back in urgency. But every attempt to make an apology was failure.

I no longer feel I'm a healthy boy—because tonight I did not dream. Or, I did not dream in a place that wasn't my personal hell. That's what it is right? You make your own personal hell for yourself?

_I ought to get accustomed to it._


End file.
